


Within Two Worlds

by AvyJC15



Series: Within The Force Series (Star Wars Fanfiction) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Best Friends, Character Death, Childhood Friends, Comfort, Dark Past, Dimension Travel, F/M, Family, Fights, First Love, Friendship/Love, Gen, Jedi, Loyalty, Pain, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2019-10-03 04:16:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 97,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17276918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvyJC15/pseuds/AvyJC15
Summary: A girl is thrown into another universe, following the death of her dearest friends and brother, as well as her own.After awakening in a mundane yet rather unfamiliar planet, Ashlyn Cordell finds herself soaring in space, encountering aliens and Jedi along the way, reuniting with her best friend who, it turns, became one with the dark side of the Force.Caught in the midst of a war, she must seek refuge and ally herself, along with her cousin Jeremy, with young apprentice Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, his master Qui-Gon Jinn, the Queen Amidala of Naboo, and 9-year-old Anakin Skywalker.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> **ATTENTION** I DO NOT OWN ANY OF GEORGE LUCAS' ORIGINAL CHARACTERS FROM THE ORIGINAL STAR WARS SERIES. I ONLY OWN ASHLYN AND FEW OTHER CHARACTERS YOU HAVE NEVER READ OR HEARD OF.
> 
> Also, you can go to my Urstyle Within The Force Collection to see the outfits my characters wear throughout my story in the link below. I write what they wear pretty descriptively, but it's always nice to see it live, doncha think?
> 
> https://urstyle.com/collections/16941
> 
> P.S. I've not edited anything in this story since I finished this book in 2016 on Wattpad and Quotev, so sorry if there are quite a few mistakes; I've re-read it a few times and found most of my errors are merely punctuation, or accidentally repeated words but... I'm just a tad too lazy to correct them as I'm already spending quite some time uploading them here... 
> 
> Anyway-- enjoy!!!

_"A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...."_

_"Turmoil has engulfed the Galactic Republic. The taxation of trade routes to outlying star systems is in dispute. Hoping to resolve the matter with a blockade of deadly battleships, the greedy Trade Federation has stopped all shipping to the small planet of Naboo. While the congress of the Republic endlessly debates this alarming chain of events, the Supreme Chancellor has secretly dispatched two Jedi Knights, the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, to settle the conflict..."_

"Lena! Seriously, stop."

"Okay, fine." Lena sighed in defeat. "But can you at least read the book if you're not gonna watch anything other than stupid documentaries?"

Ashlyn rolled her grayish, hazelnut eyes. "Documentaries aren't stupid. We learn from them, unlike your little fictional stories."

"Sci-Fi," Lena corrected her best friend, tucking a strand of her light brown hair behind her ear as they walked out of the library that had just closed that Thursday night.

"Science-fictional stories," Ashlyn said with a shrug. "It's all in the fiction section. Besides, why do you want me to read that? I mean seriously, how will Star Wars be of use to me in life? What will I learn from it? It's just a made up story."

"You will learn how to find the Force within you," Lena replied dramatically, making Ashlyn laugh. Lena grinned. "See, I knew you still had that gorgeous laugh within you. Now all you have to do when Cody talks to you is―"

"I will not flirt around with other guys. I already have a boyfriend, now shut up," Ashlyn replied, running a hand through her long, waist-length raven black hair.

Lena pouted. "Oh, come on, Lyn. Don't do this to me. Just, for once, let yourself go and stop shutting people out. Stop shutting me out. Live a little. Have fun."

"I have fun," Ashlyn defended herself as they neared her house.

"Sure you― Look out!"

It was too late. Ashlyn was hit, hard, but not from a direction or thing she was expecting. Her head cracked against a tree trunk. Everything happened so fast and the next thing she knew, she was lying down on the cemented ground though a few fifteen feet away from where she had stood.

"Ash―"

_BANG!_

"Lyn..."

Ashlyn groaned in pain and sat up, her vision blurring by the second. Her eyes widened in shock as she watched her best friend bring a hand to her chest then collapsed onto the ground. Ignoring the pain shooting from her head down her spine, she stumbled onto her feet and gasped before painfully yet quickly making her way toward Lena, slightly dragging herself as she couldn't really run. She stared at Lena's face with wide eyes.

Lena's crystal blue eyes were open, staring at nothing.

"No, no, NO! You can't do this to me! Lena?! Lena!" Ashlyn shouted, collapsing onto the ground beside her best friend. She shook her many times but got no response.

Nothing.

Ashlyn couldn’t see anymore. Her eyes were wet and blurry. But she was hyper-aware of the sounds around her. Police sirens heading towards her side of the town, her brother rushing around the house for some reason unknown to her, then, a sudden fluttering beat that was too fast...  _ticking_  too fast. She couldn’t place it, but she didn't care about it. All she cared about― all she wanted was her best friend to be alive; she had already lost too many people.

"Ashlyn!" Charlie― Ashlyn's older brother and only one left alive― shouted, running out of the house toward her. "Come on; you can't stay here. We gotta go."

"NO! I am not leaving her," she shouted hysterically, trying to shove him away, but she had no more energy left within her. She was just... broken.

"Ash, come on before they get any closer," Zack, her boyfriend, pleaded, coming up beside Charlie.

"No, no, no..." she trailed off, no longer moving. She was still very much alive, but she was weak and tired of having Marino's mob on her back. She cleared her families name with them... Why were they still after her? Was her father in on this? By the way he is, so violent and murderous, you would think so... while she knew so.

"Go in and finish packing, I'll get her inside and feed her, then we can go," Zack told Charlie who quickly nodded before rushing back into the house. Once he was gone, Zack slowly and carefully picked her up and carried her to the door.

"Put me down," she croaked. "Please." He obliged without a word and opened the door for her. As soon as she stepped inside, she lost her balance and was about to collapse onto the ground, but he caught her and helped her inside. He took her to the kitchen and sat her down on a chair and started making some hot chocolate.

"ASHLYN CORDELL!" The next thing she knew, she was being thrown against the wall.

Everything happened so quickly; he was in front of her in a flash. She didn't see if he used his hand or his foot, it was too fast. A crushing blow struck her chest— she felt herself flying backward and then heard the crunch as her head bashed into the other wall. It buckled, some of the pieces shattering and splintering on the floor beside her.

Ashlyn was too stunned to feel the pain. She couldn't breathe yet.

"Ashlyn!" Zack, shouted along with Charlie who had just run into the kitchen. He turned to his father furiously. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

But Leonard, her father, kept shouting, rambling on and on as he glared furiously at her as if she had committed a crime all while insulting her, calling her many rubbish things, such as whore and slut. He then hit her face with something hard. She was confused though. What was he talking about? He never told her anything like that... was he drunk? And why wasn't she reacting? She was a second degree black belt in both Karate and Taekwondo... why the hell wasn't she taking him down right then and there?

"DON'T YOU DARE CALL HER THAT, YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A FATHER!!!" Charlie roared back, punching him in the face. Both, Charlie and Zack, started throwing punches and kicks at him, while Ashlyn watched in disbelief. They're going to end up killing each other.

It was then she noticed the rife he was pulling out of his back pocket. That bastard! That is unfair. And how could he do that to his own son? And her boyfriend? He doesn't even know the boy.

He was going to shoot his own son and his daughter's boyfriend.

"No—" Ashlyn was cut off as two loud 'BANG's were heard and all three men collapsed onto the ground. She couldn't stand up due to her broken leg, so she dragged herself across the floor to them. Leonard was out cold, the gun still in his hand. Charlie was gone for good and Zack... he was still breathing, but barely— he'd been shot.

"Dammit! Not you too, don't... you... dare... Zack," she chocked, pulling him into her arms and patting his cheek.

He opened his bright blue-gray eyes and looked up at her. "Hey there... prin... cess," he croaked, flashing her a halfhearted smile that clearly had 'pain' written all over it.

Ashlyn groaned. "Don't... you can't leave..."

He slowly lifted his hand and stroked her cheek. "But, you can... take the keys. Personally... if we weren't.... in these circumstances... I'd never let you go. But you... have to leave. The keys... they're on... the table."

"No. I'm not—" She was cut off once again when a pair of lips were crashed onto hers. She didn't hesitate in kissing him back, though she was frustrated. Why did her first kiss have to occur when her boyfriend was freakin' dying? Why the hell didn't they do that before?

He pulled back and smiled, stroking her cheek again. "That should've been our first kiss. Better now than never, huh?"

"But— I—why— now―"

"I have always loved you, Asher. I... never... understood why I felt this way only with you... until recently... I love you," he whispered before his eyes dropped close.

"N-no! Don't leave," she pleaded, breaking down again. Why did life hate her so much to take away from her the ones who meant the most to her? Why did she have to be the one to go through this?

She looked back at her father's body, whose chest had now started to rise and fall more quickly. He was going to wake up soon. She kissed Zack once more, then planted a tender kiss on her brother's cheek before dragging herself back towards the table, where the keys were. She struggled a bit when she reached up for them, but eventually snatched, making the table fall on me through the process. She huffed, pushing the table off her before dragging herself to the front door. She heard a whimper coming from the kitchen, so she quickly wobbled herself up and let out a blood-curdling scream before limping her way to the Jeep parked right in front of the house.

She got in, slammed the door shut and quickly roared the engine to life as Leonard was finally awake and started shouting profanities from inside the house.

She quickly drove of though with difficulty due to her broken leg and a few other broken bones from the earlier accident.

She was now driving down an empty highway, squinting her eyes trying to see through the dark. For some unknown reason, the engine gave away, and the car stopped, pushing her forward a little, her hair waving in front of her face. She started hyperventilating out of panic.

"No, no, no, NO! Why?!"

She turned the key around in the ignition, trying to restart the car, hoping it didn't die on her too. Her eyes moved from the ignition up to the rear-view mirror, looking for any cars approaching behind her.

Her eyes widened, and she gasped as an old red car approached hers, and it was too close to even stop.

"Shit!"

The car slammed into the back of hers. She could hear glass shattering and metal crashing, but she closed her eyes and tried to tune the rest out as blackness consumed her.

Ashlyn couldn't tell how long she had been unconscious, but it didn't seem long. As she opened her eyes, she grimaced, tasting blood in her mouth as she struggled to sit up and let out another blood-curdling scream when an immense pain shot through her stomach. She looked down and saw a huge piece of broken glass stuck in it.

She clenched her jaw. "Shit."

Her voice was cracking as she squeezed her eyes shut and slowly reached down to grab the pieces of glass that were now cutting through her hands. She tightened her grip on it, and her breathing hitched as she felt the blood oozing out of her palms.

"Shit, shit, shit!" she wrenched it out of her stomach letting out an ear piercing scream.

She ripped a sleeve from a black sweater that was randomly lying on the passenger seat and hissed as she pressed it against the wound. She whimpered after a few seconds, knowing that the piece she just wrenched out wasn't the only one stuck on her. Her fingers dug into the brown scarf from the immense pain shooting through her whole body. Some of her bones probably shattered from the impact.

"Shit!"

She could feel a lump in her throat, jumping and yelping in pain as she felt the vibration of her phone buzzing in her pocket. She quickly pulled out the now cracked cellphone and placed it to her ear.

"Hello?" she croaked.

"Ashlyn, are you okay? I heard shouting and—"

"N-no," Ashlyn replied, and it was the truth. "I-I'm stuck, Claire," she told her cousin.

"Stuck? What are you going on about? What's going on?" Ashlyn could hear moving in the background; she must be ready to come find her.

"I-I...." Ashlyn had difficulty responding; it was too hard to put the words together with her breathing slowing down by the second. "I... I've been... in a... a... c-crash."

"Shit," Claire cursed, and Ashlyn heard the wind blowing from the other end. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

"N-no, Claire. My bones... shattered... and broken glass..." Ashlyn's eyes started dropping close, but they quickly shot open when she heard her name being shouted from the other end of the line.

"Ash? Ashlyn! Ugh! Ashlyn Rosalinda Maria Cordell, you answer me right now!"

"I'm... sorry... wha—"

"Where are you?" Claire interrupted.

Ashlyn's breathing hitched and she tried to push on the car door, but it was locked. It wouldn't open. She kept shoving on the door and pulling the handle as hard as she could, but it would not open.

It was becoming awfully hot in there.

She took deep breaths, unbuckling her seat belt. It was then she looked up and saw the car that wrecked hers only feet away, turned on its side in front of her. Ashlyn gasped, her eyes widening as she covered her mouth; there was blood splattered on their windows. Her stomach constantly hurled as she realized her windshield had been broken, except no blood. She let out a scream, hoping someone would hear her.

But nobody came out.

She turned and pounded on the passenger window, her face pressing to the cold glass. She was a little caught off guard when it broke under her weak fists. Ashlyn quickly grabbed her phone, struggled to get out, but it was too hard. Her heart was starting to give away as she crawled her way out through the broken window. Sh wobbled herself up but instantly regretted it when she felt her bones on the left side of her body. They were completely shattered, she could feel it. She started dragging herself away from the Volvo, but stopped, remembering Claire was still on the line. She was about to press her phone up to her ear when she realized she wasn't holding it anymore. She looked down and saw it lying on the floor. Must have dropped it...

Ashlyn sucked in a breath and held it as she bent down to pick the phone up, but as soon as she did, her legs gave away. She lay there for a few seconds, her breathing ragged as she blinked a few times, trying to stay awake. She weakly put the phone up to her ear and replied to her question.

"Um... I think I'm... on... a mile away... from Glendale... I'm not... sure... there is a... a..." She stopped talking as she looked across the highway. A bright blue light shone in the distance.

"What?" Claire urged. Ashlyn didn't answer for a moment as she was somewhat mesmerized by it.

"I see... light... a... a colorful... light," she murmured. The colors were starting dance as the ticking noise grew louder and louder yet slower... as if it was almost over.

"Colo— shit! No, Ashlyn! Listen to me, whatever you do, do not look at it. Stay away from that light, do you hear me?" But Ashlyn was no longer listening.

She looked back at her Jeep, then at the car that collided against it and immediately recognized the old red Volkswagen beetle.  _They_  had still been after her... Why? All she did was clear the names of her mother and brothers. She hadn't had enough time to do it for her father yet he chose to believe that she simply didn't want to and decided to team up with Marino's mob and go after her to kill her― his own daughter. He killed her boyfriend... and her brothers and mother— tried to kill her... Well he didn't really try— he succeeded; she's dying slowly and painfully, just like he always wanted her to.

"Ashlyn! Listen to me! Don't go anywhere near that light! Stay away from it."

"But... it's... beautiful..." The light started to get bigger, and the ticking noise was now louder than even Claire's voice, and that's something.

"Ash, please..."

Ashlyn smiled weakly at the light.  _I'm dying. Why fight it? I mean... you only live once, right? I lived, and now I'm going... gonna be with my brothers... with ma and my best friends..._

"I love you, Claire. I really do. You're... the best sister I've never had," she whispered, then...

BOOM!

The ticking noise was gone replaced by a straight monotonous beeping noise as a blast was heard. She let the phone fall, hearing Claire's distant voice, shouting profanities from the other side of the line. She braced herself, not bothering to keep her breathing in check anymore. The blast was like an atomic bomb coming towards her, throwing the cars in the air one by one coming in this direction fast.

Ashlyn closed her eyes and let one last lonely tear trickle down her cheek before the blast hit her, throwing her twenty feet back. She hit the ground, and... died.

She couldn't understand; she was in pain. Why? Are we supposed to feel pain when we're dead? And why was the pain this painful?

It was bewildering.

Exactly that— she was bewildered. She couldn’t understand, couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Her body tried to reject the pain, and she was sucked again and again back into a blackness that cut out whole seconds or maybe even minutes of the agony, making it that much harder to keep up with reality. She tried to separate them.

Non-reality was black, and it didn’t hurt so much... but it was completely feelingless.

Reality was a bloody red, and it felt like she was being sawed in half, hit by a bus, punched by a prize fighter, trampled by bulls, and submerged in acid, all at the same time, and even though she didn't actually know how that felt... she felt it.

Reality was feeling her body twist and flip when she couldn’t possibly move because of the pain. Reality was knowing there was something so much more important than all this torture, and not being able to know, or if she did know, not being able to remember what it was.

Reality had come on so fast.

One moment, everything was almost as it should have been. Surrounded by the people she loved. Smiles. Somehow, unlikely as it was, it seemed like she would never get everything she'd been fighting for.

Because of that one tiny, inconsequential thing had gone wrong.

Then there was pain again— just one warm slash of it. And the weakness was too much.

She couldn’t feel her arms. She couldn't feel herself.

The blackness rushed over her eyes more solidly than before, like a thick blindfold, firm and fast, covering not just her eyes but also herself with a crushing weight. It was exhausting to push against it. She knew it would be so much easier to give in. To let the blackness push her down, down, down to a place where there was no pain and no weariness and no worry and no fear.

If it had only been for herself, she wouldn’t have been able to struggle very long. She was only human, with no more than human strength.

And nothing seemed real anymore. That made it hard not to give up.

She kept pushing against the black, though, it was a reflex from back when she was fighting for her life. She wasn’t trying to lift it. She was just resisting. Not allowing it to crush her completely. She couldn’t shoulder it. All she could do was not be entirely obliterated. It was sort of the pattern to her life— she'd never been strong enough to deal with the things outside her control, to attack the enemies or outrun them. To avoid the pain. She was only a human after all. A human and weak, the only thing she'd ever been able to do was keep going.

Keep surviving.

It had been enough up to this point. It would have to be enough today. She would endure this— withstand this until help came. But she knew that no one would come. She was alone now, but she had to keep fighting. Charlie, Zack, and Lena would be doing everything they could. Claire would be yelling at her to never give up— none of them would give up.

Neither would she.

She held the blackness of nonexistence at bay by inches... centimeters... millimeters. It wasn’t enough, though— that determination. As the time ground on and on and the darkness gained by tiny eighths and sixteenths of her inches... of her centimeters, she needed something more to draw strength from. She couldn’t pull even Zack's face into view. Not Charlie's, not Bobbie's or Lena's, not Claire's or Jeremy's...

Nothing.

It terrified her, and she wondered if it  _was_  too late.

She could feel herself slipping— there was nothing to hold on to.

 _No!_  She had to survive this. Claire was depending on her. Lena, Charlie, Bobbie, Jeremy... they wouldn't want her to give up.

Zack.

His love for her and hers for him. She couldn't bring him back, but she would go on for him. Even though she was only sixteen, she knew she really loved him and would never love anyone else, but she would keep living for him and her brothers, cousins and first best friend ever.

Charlie, Bobbie, Claire, Jeremy and Lena.

She had to do it.

There was a spot of heat in her phantom arms felt so...  _real_.

She clutched it closer. It was exactly where her heart should be— holding tight the warm memory of every embrace she gave or received, knowing that she  _would_  be able to fight the darkness as long as she needed to. The warmth beside her heart got more and more real, warmer and warmer. Hotter. The heat was so real it was hard to believe that she was merely imagining it.

Hotter.

Too hot. Much, much too hot. But it was comfortable, relaxing. Then it was almost uncomfortable now.

Like grabbing the wrong end of a curling iron, a burning crowbar— her automatic response was to drop the scorching thing in her arms. But there was nothing in her arms. Her arms were not curled to her chest. Her arms were dead things lying somewhere at her side. The heat was inside her.

The burning grew— rose and peaked and rose again until it surpassed anything she'd ever felt.

She felt the pulse behind the fire raging now in her chest and realized that she'd found her heart again, just in time to wish she never had. To wish that she'd embraced the blackness while she'd still had the chance. She wanted to raise her arms and claw her chest open and rip the heart from it— anything to get rid of this torture. But she couldn’t feel her arms, couldn’t move one vanished finger.

Her father, snapping her leg under his foot. That was nothing. That was a soft place to rest on a feather bed. She'd take that now, a hundred times. A hundred snaps. She'd take it and be grateful.

The fire blazed hotter and she wanted to scream. To beg for someone to kill her now, before she lived one more second in this pain. But she couldn’t move her lips. The weight was still there, pressing on me. She realized it wasn’t the darkness holding her down; it was her body. So heavy. Burying her in the flames that were chewing their way out from her heart now, spreading with impossible pain through her shoulders and stomach, scalding their way up her throat, licking at her face.

Why couldn’t she move? Why couldn’t she scream?

Her mind was unbearably clear— sharpened by the fierce pain— and she saw the answer almost as soon as she could form the questions.

She wasn't dying.

The endless burn raged on.

It could have been seconds or days, weeks or years, but, eventually, time came to mean something again.

Three things happened together, grew from each other so that she didn’t know which came first: time restarted, the numbness' weight faded, and she got stronger. She could feel the control of her body come back to her in increments, and those increments were her first markers of the time passing. She knew it when she was able to twitch her toes and twist her fingers into fists. She knew it, but she did not act on it.

Though the fire did not decrease one tiny degree— in fact, she began to develop a new capacity for experiencing it, a new sensitivity to appreciate, separately, each blistering tongue of flame that licked through her veins— she discovered that she could think around it.

She could remember why she shouldn’t scream. She could remember the reason why she'd committed to enduring this unendurable agony. She could remember that, though it felt impossible now, there was something that might be worth the torture.

This happened just in time for her to hold on when the weights left her body. To anyone watching her, there would be no change. But for Ashlyn, as she struggled to keep the screams and thrashing locked up inside her body, where they couldn’t hurt anyone else, it felt like she'd gone from being tied to the stake as she burned, to gripping that stake to hold herself in the fire.

She had just enough strength to lie there unmoving while she was charred alive.

Her hearing got clearer and clearer, and she could count the frantic, pounding beats of her heart to mark the time. She could count the shallow breaths that gasped through her teeth.

She could count her low, even breaths that. They meant the most time passing. Those breaths pulled her through the burning seconds toward the end. She continued to get stronger, her thoughts clearer. When new noises came, she could listen. That was it. She still couldn't feel. She couldn’t feel the coolness of her fingers. The fire blistered away every memory of cool.

She went back to counting her breaths to mark the time.

Ten thousand, nine hundred forty-three breaths later, a different set of noises filled the air. Lighter than her own heart beat. More... rhythmic. Not many seconds later, the pain changed.

On the good-news side of things, it started to fade from her fingertips and toes. Fading slowly, but at least it was doing something new. This had to be it. The pain was on its way out...

And then the bad news. She was internally freaking out for not knowing what was going on. The fire in her throat wasn’t the same as before. She wasn’t only on fire, but she was now parched, too. Dry as bone. So thirsty. Burning fire, and burning thirst...

Also bad news: The fire inside her heart got hotter... and colder? Despite her agony, she strangely couldn't help but think about that Katy Perry song as she felt those feelings.

How was that possible?

Her heart beat, now too fast, picked up— the fire drove its rhythm to a new frantic pace.

The fire retreated from her palms, leaving them blissfully pain-free and cool. But it retreated to her heart, which blazed hot as the sun and beat at a furious new speed.

Her fingers twitched— the irritation breaking through her perfect facade. It went silent besides the jack-hammering of her heart. The fire ripped hotter still through her chest, draining in from her elbows and knees.

And then her heart took off, beating like helicopter blades, the sound almost a single sustained note; it felt like it would grind through her ribs. The fire flared up in the center of her chest, sucking the last remnants of the flames from the rest of her body to fuel the most scorching blaze yet. The pain was enough to stun her, to break through her iron grip on the stake. Her back arched, bowed as if the fire was dragging her upward by her heart.

She allowed no other piece of her body to break rank as her torso slumped back to the ground. It became a battle inside her— her sprinting heart racing against the attacking fire and ice. All three were losing. The fire and ice were doomed, having consumed everything that was combustible and frozen; her heart galloped toward its last beat. The fire constricted, concentrating inside that one remaining human organ with a final, unbearable surge. The surge was answered by a deep, hollow-sounding thud. Her heart stuttered twice, and then thudded quietly again just once more.

There was no sound. No breathing. Not even hers. For a moment, the absence of pain was all she could comprehend. And then she opened her eyes and gazed above her in wonder.

Everything was so...

 _Clear_.

She could see every little detail— aspect surrounding her. It frightened her. Her body was no longer in pain, but she could still feel her clothes grazing against her old scars and a few fresh ones.

 _At least my bones aren't broken anymore_ , she thought, and she slowly got to her feet and looked down at herself only to be shocked.

[She wasn't wearing her baggy jeans or her white t-shirt, or her converse anymore](https://urstyle.com/styles/1658433); [she was wearing black leather pants that were hugging her legs, thighs, and hips perfectly, a black tank top hugging her upper body ever so perfectly, the strap of her red laced bra slightly showing, and a pair of black combat boots. On the ground were her shoulder bag she had always taken with her everywhere, a familiar, blood-red leather jacket she had not seen in a while, and a short yet big puffy yet airy black shirt right beside it](https://urstyle.com/styles/1658434). She picked the shirt up and put it on, over her tank top. It fell about a good four inches above her bellybutton. After it was on, she put the jacket on and picked her bag up before looking around.

 _Well, this surely ain't Vegas_ , she thought sarcastically as she examined her surroundings and noticed she was... in a desert. Squinting her eyes, she noticed what looked like a city not so far away... probably a good two miles. Not wasting any more time, she started making her way there, hoping she would know where  _there_  is. The place was like nothing she had ever seen. It looked more like something you would find in a science-fictional movie or something. You wouldn't even find houses like these in Egypt.

Ashlyn started to get creeped out more every second as she kept coming across creatures that looked an awful lot like aliens. But that's impossible; extraterrestrials don't exist... right? After a good hour of walking though, she got used to it no matter how disgusting and creepy those creatures looked. She decided she would just explore a bit more before she went looking for answers. She walked by a few... buildings and came across a few that looked like they were stores where they sold parts― garages. Sighing, Ashlyn simply walked up to a house close by and leaned against the wall, letting her body slide down against it in defeat, closing her eyes. Not once had she seen a human being there.

"Look at this!" she suddenly heard a voice call out. She opened her eyes and saw a dirty blond haired boy beckoning two other boys toward him.

 _They're probably his friends_ , Ashlyn thought as she watched at them, creeped out by the clothes they wore. They looked like if they came from somewhere near Jesus' era which confused her. No one wears that kind of clothes anymore these days, not even in Jerusalem... unless you're in Egypt or something... where it's hot and deserted.

The boy pulled a necklace out of his pocket and showed it to his friends.

"Is it a necklace for your mom?" one of the boys, who was the tiniest of the three and had black hair and dark skin, asked.

The blond boy nodded quickly with enthusiasm. "Yep, it's for being a great mom."

"Where did you get it?" asked the third boy, who was leaning in as he was the tallest, his dark brown hair falling into his eyes.

"I made it myself," the blond boy replied proudly. "I carved it out of a japor snippet..."

"Cool! Can you teach me?" the dark-skinned boy asked.

 _At least they talk normal English_ , Ashlyn thought.

"Maybe."

Then two dugs came up to the three boys. One had spiky green hair and yellow teeth; the second was a dug named Sebulba with goggles and had pilot hat resting crookedly atop his tiny head. He was a small creature, but very intimidating.

" _Necklace, give now_ ," the green spiky haired creature growled.

"No! I made it! It's mine; you can't make me give it to you!" the blond boy replied.

" _You're not free kid, and you never'll be, so give!_ " the dug yelled.

Then the dug ran over and started pulling the necklace from the boy. The two other boys tried to help him, but they weren't strong enough. Other by passers laughed at the boy and his slave friends. That angered Ashlyn. She just wanted to run over and punch them in their faces... which wouldn't be so bad to do at the moment; it's good practice for her agility and martial art skills.

Ashlyn got up and walked over to them. She first pushed back the boy with dark skin and told him to hold her bag, which he did, staring at her with wide eyes. He had never seen an outsider that looked like her. She then pulled the tallest boy back before going to stand in front of the blond-haired boy, her back facing him. She was about to speak, but then scrunched her face in disgust as she stared at the two creatures. Then she smirked and chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I was gonna say 'fight someone your own size'... but I doubt you'll find anyone as tiny as you," she said casually.

The blond haired boy had been watching her with a worried expression but giggled when she said that.

Both creatures glared at her and others started advancing on her, bigger ones.

" _You were saying?_ " Sebulba asked, smirking though it faded when he saw she was still smirking.

" _Was sayin' i_ _t's been a long time since I've fought with anybody. Let's see whatcha got_ ," she replied with a shrug, stepping forward while dropping her arms to her sides.

"Um... miss, you really shouldn't—"

She looked over her shoulder and winked at the blond boy, making him blush when he saw how pretty she was. "Don't worry, kid. I can handle myself."

"Watch out!" the dark-skinned boy shouted as a big hand was about to punch her face, though she quickly caught it, twisted it, leaped up and locked the head of her attacker between her thighs before bringing him down to the ground.

The three boys gasped as she jumped onto her feet, still smirking at they other creatures who were getting pissed off. Ashlyn had the upper hand for quite a while, though she started losing her energy again as creatures twice and thrice her size joined the battle. She couldn't dodge many attacks anymore, and though her own were still quite powerful, she was weakening by the second as she had at least seven big aliens fighting her. She could feel her fresh scars and cuts from before she got there, reopening. It hurt, and her whole body was aching. Suddenly, she was caught off guard when she was walloped with something on the back of her head, blurring her vision.

"Hey, that's not fair! You can't hit someone with a big rock," the blond boy shouted at the tall skinny creature that was standing behind Ashlyn.

It had just used a randomly broken boulder as a weapon and hit her on the back of her head with it. The alien smirked at the boy and repeated its action several times. Ashlyn could barely stand, and the boy was almost in tears watching her hurt so much. As she fell to her knees, most creatures watching cheered at her defeat and joined in the beating. A few had knives and pointy things they were using on her, and the three boys tried to stop them, but they were caught off guard by what happened next.

An invisible life force had emerged from Ashlyn's now lying frame and threw all the creatures at least ten feet away. The two boys watched in shock as she was slightly glowing while the blond boy looked at their savior in awe.

 _She must be an angel_ , he thought as she stumbled back onto her feet and slightly smirked at the creatures that were now staring at her in fear.

"Did I forget to mention that I never lost a battle in Karate or Taekwondo?" she mused. The creatures quickly stumbled onto their feet and ran off.

She snorted then slightly grimaced in pain. "Yeah, go cry to your uncle Ernesto, you jerks!" she called after them. Once they were gone, she was about to take a step forward when she suddenly collapsed, breaking the boys out of their daze.

"Kitster!" the blond boy shouted at the dark-skinned boy. "Go get my mom, quick!"

"On it, Anakin!" Kitster replied before running towards Anakin's house, still holding Ashlyn's bag.

Anakin turned to the tall boy who was waiting to be told what to do to help. "Sully, help me out here. At least help me get her to the door, then my mom can help."

Sully nodded, and they both walked over to Ashlyn and carefully started picking her up. They were surprised by how light she was despite her being taller than them both. She wasn't too skinny— she was perfect, Anakin thought when he looked at her, but she was in some serious need of medical help. They started bringing her to Anakin's house when his mom, Shmi, suddenly ran out, Kitster following right behind.

When Ashlyn opened her eyes, she had to close them back as light infiltrated her vision. It hurt, but thankfully, it went away fairly quickly.

The woman had been tending her wounds when she noticed the teenage girl had woken up.

She smiled kindly.

"Oh, you're awake," she said.

It didn't take long for Ashlyn to register what was going on and start freaking out. She got off the bed, completely ignoring the woman's protests, and started rambling to herself in Spanish and French muttering things like  _'Esto no puede estar pasando'_  or  _'En fait, qu'est-ce qui ce passe?'_  as she grabbed her bag, which thankfully happened to be at the entrance of whatever place she was in. She quickly threw it across her shoulder before running off, the woman calling after her, but it was too late.

Ashlyn had left the 'city' and was wandering around the desert. She knew it was stupid, but she didn't care, she needed to be alone and think things through. How did she get there? Why did she get there? Wasn't she supposed to be dead? That's probably it. Maybe, she was still dying and this was her last dream. It had to be that, considering she would never actually dress the way she was dressed at the moment. She would have attracted too many boys, that's why she always wore slightly baggy clothes. The only one to have seen her wear tight clothes, other than her brother and best friend, was her boyfriend, but that was it. Boys, back at her school, looked at her to perversely when she wore tight clothes, that's why she had stopped.

It seemed like hours had passed since she left the city and she still couldn't find a logical explanation to her as to why or how she was there. She didn't give up though. She tied her hair back in a messy ponytail and kept wandering around, starting to get hungry, but she ignored it until she found a plant that looked an awful lot like a cactus.

If it was like a cactus, it probably had digestible nutrients inside of it; only problem was that she didn't have anything to cut it with. She groaned and just as she was about to keep walking, she suddenly felt some weight in the pocket hidden inside her jacket. Puzzled, she looked inside and found two small polished metal hilts that were at least eight inches long.

Ashlyn brought them out of her jacket and studied them curiously. Each metal hilt consisted of a combination handgrip, omen sort of emitter, an activator switch, and a power source. Curiously, she pushed the activator switch on both hilts, only to get the hell shocked out of her. An eleven inch red-violet light... basically a brightly lit, very light pink blade was ejected out of each hilt. She put one away only to examine the other. Tilting her head to the side, she reached an index out to the blade.

" _Goddammit_!" she screamed, instantly retracting her hand and shaking it as she had just been burnt. "Sweet Jesus... what knife burns... and how the heck did it even get here?" She glanced down as she felt some weight on her hip and groaned when she saw another metal hilt hanging from her belt in some sort of holster. Putting the laser dagger away with the other inside her jacket, she grabbed the one from her belt and furrowed her brows as she weighted it on her hand. It was heavier, thicker and longer— maybe eleven inches long— than the two other ones, and this one was decorated in a more elegant way.

Clicking the activator switch, she flinched back as the metal hilt also projected a brightly lit energy blade, though this one was blue and about four feet long. This time, she knew better than to face Medusa with open eyes and didn't touch the blade. She leaned forward and examined it more closely yet far enough so she wouldn't hurt herself. The blade seemed to be made of pure plasma. The hilt seemed to be what was containing the immense heat of the plasma, therefore protecting her, and allowing the blade to keep its shape. It seemed crazy and unbelievable to her, but she liked it all the same.

She held the weapon at arm's length and swung it around. The movement made the weapon give off a distinctive hum, which rose in pitch and volume as Ashlyn moved the blade rapidly through the air. Ashlyn turned to the plant and slashed the laser sword across it.

Grinning, she pressed a finger on the switch, making the blade disappear. She put it inside her jacket and brought out the laser daggers, putting them on her belt instead of the sword. She bent down and tasted the inside of the plant, her stomach instantly flipping wildly. Whatever she was tasting was deliciously sweet.

After about five minutes, she resumed her wandering around, but stopped when she felt a tug in the pit of her stomach and a red light in the back of her head alerting her about danger coming her way. She wasn't looking where she was going anymore. She was looking down at her feet as she walked faster, concentrating her hearing on her surroundings. She snapped her head up and spun around while activating her laser daggers and brought them up to block whatever attack was headed her way. It was a long green plasmatic blade that came in contact with her two small ones, producing a loud crackle.

When their eyes locked with each others', they were both overwhelmed by many confusing emotions, but the ones that kept coming back into the back of their heads were:

Caution, wariness... and somehow trust.


	2. Chapter Two

Her grayish, hazel-nut eyes locked themselves with the crystal blue eyes of a man who appeared to be in his late thirties, probably forty. He had long brown hair, semi-tied back, and a beard, his whole attire hidden under a long, dark brown robe.

It didn't seem like either of them was going to back down, and though Ashlyn was really not in the mood to be fighting again, she ignored the pain coursing through her body and did whatever it took to protect herself.

Ashlyn took a step back then swung a death blow with her laser daggers that were barely blocked by the stranger. The two fighters were soon bashing each other with incredible blows. They moved in a perpetual cloud of dust, smashing everything around them. 

This was a fierce fight. 

The stranger visibly struggled a bit, but thanks to his skills managed to cut the teenage girl in a few recently stitched cuts, reopening them even wider, leaving it burnt.

Ashlyn could feel her body quickly weakening, and that enraged her. Never had she lost a fight when she had been in one, and never had she shown any weakness in front of a stranger.

Their sword battle did not stop, leaping over one another in an incredible display of acrobatics.

The man noticed the gender of the Outlander, for the first time as her hair tie broke, her raven black hair falling down to her mid-back. She was female, most noticeably, a young woman. A _very_ young one at that, probably in her mid-adolescent years. He also noticed that she was already quite worn out, and that surely wasn't his work since he had only been using his weapon; not once had he punched or kicked her. He started slowing his movements when he noticed her weakening. He completely stopped when he saw she was about to faint. She took that as an opportunity to strike, though her attempt was to no avail as she collapsed right into his now outstretched arms.

She squirmed weakly, trying to get out of his grasp. "No... let me go. Just... let me die," she mumbled stubbornly, making him roll his eyes.

"You are not going to die."

She frowned, closing her eyes as he placed her onto the ground. "I should be dead anyway..." she muttered to herself, though it wasn't as low as she thought since he heard.

He frowned as he watched the girl retract her light pink laser blades into their hilts.

"Ugh... why pink?" she mumbled as she stumbled onto her feet and struggled to make her way over to her bag that was about twelve feet away, groaning.

He carefully watched her every move with raised eyebrows in surprise as he noted that even severely injured, she walked quite gracefully. He also noticed that her attire was really... something else; he doubted anybody who lived on this planet dressed like her. He stood up straighter and slowly followed behind her cautiously.

"Were you really trying to kill me?" he suddenly asked, making her jump in surprise. She had forgotten he was there.

She winced as she bent down and snatched her bag from the ground. "I'm sixteen years old. I may be an American who knows pretty darn well how to fight—"

He gave her a puzzled look. "American?"

She continued, not hearing his interference. "— but I would never kill. If I had killed before, trust me I would've been in jail."

"Jail?"

This time she heard him and gave him a weird look. "Yeah, jail. You know... prison? Anyway, killing is not in my new agenda of this strange world full of ugly creatures, men who dress weirdly and laser swords. I was trying to knock you out..." she trailed off, struggling to take a step forward, though her legs were shaking. "... and... run away, but I guess the running part isn't happening since you pretty much beat me more than I already was."

She took another step forward but gasped when her legs suddenly gave out beneath her, and she collapsed onto the sandy ground and whimpered. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. First, her best friend dies, then the only brother she had left, then her boyfriend, then her father dies, killing her along the way. What wrong did she do to have karma hit her so badly?

Groaning, she rolled onto her back and stared at the sky, not caring that the stranger was staring at her. Though he wasn't looking at her weirdly; he was looking at her with curiosity evident on his slightly wrinkled features that she couldn't see due to her staring at the baby blue sky and the sun _s_ kissing her face, making her squint her eyes.

The stranger sighed and walked over to her. He bent down, grabbed her bag and swung over his shoulder then wrapped her right arm around his neck and scooped her up into his arms before starting to walk.

"No... what are you doing? Put me down," she mumbled, her mind slightly seeping in and out of consciousness. "Let me desiccate... wow... those documentaries are really getting to me."

The way she was speaking was confusing him, but also intriguing him. He found her accent and the words she used very interesting.

"I will not let you out here to die, desiccating," he replied.

She was silent for a moment as all she could hear was his soft breathing and his heart beating softly against his chest where her head was rested.

"Where are you taking me?" she finally asked, though it came out as a whisper as she closed her eyes, brought left her arm that was dangling on the side up to her stomach and grabbed a handful of his robe, clenching her hand around it, hoping that would keep her awake.

"I'm taking you to the ship."

She frowned but didn't open her eyes. "Ship?"

"Yes."

"As in a _space_ ship?"

"Yes."

"No... I don't want to go into space..." she whined.

"We're stranded here, so I don't think you will be going any time soon," he replied. "Especially not in the state you find yourself in at the moment."

She was silent again before she slightly opened her eyes and stared at her clenched fist that kept loosening now and then.

"You're a Jedi," she stated bluntly, as the suns were slowly starting to disappear from her peripheral vision.

The man stopped walking and looked curiously down at Ashlyn. "What makes you think that?"

"We just battled with laser swords, and I was burnt at least fifteen times, not including the time where I stupidly touched the blade out of curiosity..." the young girl pointed out before muttering to herself, "Curiosity does kill the cat after all."

"It's called a lightsaber," the man corrected, amusement coloring his tone as he resumed his walk.

"I know, but I hate those things already, therefore, even if they can't be annoyed, I will call them laser swords... until I get tired of it myself."

The man chuckled. "Though I'm curious, why do you think I'm a Jedi? What if, perhaps, I killed a Jedi and took it from him?"

Ashlyn shook her head numbly. "I would know."

"How would you?" the man asked, fighting back a smirk.

Ashlyn frowned, then shrugged tiredly. "I don't know... but I just would. Besides, even if I never fought a Jedi before, I know you wouldn't have fought like that if you weren't one. Not everyone can maneuver a simple sword, let alone one that burns the hell out of ya. And then... there was also this sort of grand, fluid energy field I felt from your presence."

The man was silent before he stated, "You are Force-sensitive." He was surprised when she didn't question him about it.

Instead, she said, "And you _are_ a Jedi." Sighing, he nodded. "Can I trust you?"

"Since you didn't try to kill me, then yes."

She smirked and rested her head on his shoulder. "I said I never killed, not that I wasn't trying to."

He stopped right in the entrance of the ship and glanced down at the smirking teenage girl. Shaking his head, he chuckled and resumed his walk, taking her to the infirmary. Once there, he gently placed her on a bed and gathered some equipment to start tending her injuries.

Ashlyn was barely conscious, but it wasn't exactly hard for her to figure out that she wasn't outside anymore since there was no sight of the sun.

Fighting to keep her eyes open, she watched as the strange man she had previously fought, tended her wounds.

"What's your name?" she blurted out.

He looked up at her and smiled kindly, in a quite fatherly way that made her insides twist. "Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Knight and Master," he replied. "What is yours?"

"My full name is long... really long..." He chuckled. "So I'll just give you the short version... it's Ashlyn. Ashlyn Cordell... high school sophomore, but then again I ain't in school anymore, so I guess now I'm a 'no-more.'"

He smiled even though he did not understand what she meant by high school or sophomore. "Nice to meet you, Ashlyn."

She nodded once, closing her eyes for about second before reopening them. "Likewise, sir," she replied as he scraped some of her blood into a small chip. "Er... what are you doing, exactly?"

"Checking your blood for infections."

She scoffed. "Yeah, because a skin burning laser sword would leave me infected instead of burned," she muttered sarcastically, making him chuckle and roll his eyes. "If anything, you probably just cauterized my wounds, which helps _against_ infections."

"Rest, you need it." He stood and made his way to the door. "Goodnight."

Finally closing her eyes, she replied in a mutter, "Night, monk."

Rolling his eyes again, he left the room and went to join his Padawan who was waiting for him patiently. Qui-Gon took the bloodstained chip and looked at it, hesitantly.

"Obi-Wan..."

"Yes, Master," answered Obi-Wan, turning to look at him.

"I need an analysis of this blood sample," said Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan was curious about why his master would ask him to do that and whose blood it belonged to, but he did not question him.

He nodded and took the chip. "Wait a minute..."

"I need a midi-chlorian count," the Jedi Master continued, taking a seat not too far away.

Obi-Wan gasped in shock, catching his Master's attention. "Master... the reading's off the chart... over _seventy_ thousand. Th-that's impossible; even Master Yoda doesn't have a midi-chlorian count that high!"

Qui-Gon, who was now standing beside his Padawan, frowned. "No Jedi has."

"What does that mean?" Obi-Wan asked.

Qui-Gon furrowed his brows. "I'm not sure."

The next morning, Ashlyn put her jacket on, picked up her bag and stuffed her puffy shirt in it before walking out of what looked like an infirmary and went down a long hallway, not exactly sure of where she was heading. She finally arrived in front of a room that would've looked like a living room, but, her guess is that, in that universe... or whatever, it was called a maintenance room... or Main Area. 

She warily looked around before her eyes finally set on a robot― Astro Droid, call it what you will― that was quite filthy and was being cleaned by a girl who seemed to be a few years younger than her. She let her gaze wander a bit, and when she saw the girl's lips moving, she realized that she was talking with someone, and that was when she noticed a tall alien. Since she didn't know where else to go and she felt like she could really use some company right now, she glanced around the glass door and found a sliver button on a control panel beside it. Shrugging, she pressed it, and the door instantly slid open.

She took a deep breath. "Hi," she said, making her presence known.

The girl looked up, and her eyes widened as she recognized Ashlyn as the girl who had been fighting the Jedi Master the day before, while the alien jumped, startled by her sudden presence, though his eyes widened as well as he too recognized Ashlyn. The alien looked at her curiously while the girl silently praised her; no Jedi Master had ever been almost defeated by a mere teenager, but then again, the girl could easily tell that Ashlyn wasn't exactly a simple girl.

She was special.

Ashlyn studied them subtly in mere seconds. The young stranger had dark brown hair that was hidden underneath her orange hooded cloak. The alien was a tall Gungan, his skin being a rare mixture of orange and brown, his long ears falling down his back like hair, and his eyes were of an indescribable orange that seemed to often hold confusion and nervousness, but they were mostly filled with such innocence and kindness.

She nodded respectfully to her, not exactly sure what to say, then continued to clean up the astromech droid.

"Hidoe!" the alien exclaimed himself after a long moment of silence, making Ashlyn and the girl slightly jump, startle.

The Gungan was embarrassed that he frightened them. "Sorry. Whosa are yousa?" he asked curiously.

Ashlyn smiled a small genuine smile at both strangers. "I'm Ashlyn."

The girl smiled back. "I'm Padmé. I attend Her Highness, Queen Amidala. This is Artoo-Detoo." She rubbed a black smudge from the droid's strut.

 _Nice to meet you_ , the little droid beeped.

"Mesa Ja Ja Binksss..." the Gungan said, trailing off as Ashlyn stepped into the room.

"Mind if I join you?" Ashlyn asked slightly hesitant, biting her lip.

Padmé smiled and shook her head. "Not at all," she replied, making Ashlyn grin as she went to sit down beside her while Jar Jar went to sit on another chair, not too far away.

Artoo wined a little as both girls looked up from the droid.

"You're a Gungan, aren't you?" Padmé asked Jar Jar.

Jar Jar nodded, long ears flapping against his neck. "Ah-huh."

"How did you end up here with them?" Ashlyn asked, just as curious as she grabbed a wet cloth and started helping Padmé clean the Astro Droid.

Jar Jar thought about it a minute. "Me no know exactly... mesa day start pitty okeday wit da brisky morning munchen. Den boom! Maccaneks every which way, dey flyen, dey scooten... Den Jedi runnen, and me grab Quiggon, den maccaneks rollen over, den go down under da lake to Otoh Gunga ta da Boss Nass..."

He stopped, not knowing where else to go. Ashlyn and Padmé were nodding encouragingly. "Tis 'bout it. Before mesa knowen it... pow! Mesa here." He shrugged "... getten berry berry skeered."

Artoo beeped sympathetically as Ashlyn sent the Gungan an equally sympathetic smile. The alien looked from the girls to the droid. Both girls smiled some more, and Artoo beeped again. Jar Jar felt pretty good.

Ashlyn then turned her attention to the young girl. "What about you? Where are you from?"

Padmé looked up at her, beaming. No one had ever been interested enough to ask her about herself. "I'm from a Naboo."

Ashlyn cocked her head to the side. "Naboo? Is that some kind planet or something?"

She was only kidding when she said that, but Padmé didn't notice the teasing in her tone as she looked at Ashlyn, seemingly surprised she didn't know that already.

"Yes."

Ashlyn froze, her eyes widening for a few seconds before she sighed and shook her head. "Lightsabers, spaceships, droids, aliens... the Jedi... all elements from that damn Sci-Fi series... why am I not surprised?" she muttered. "What planet are we on?"

Padmé gave her a puzzled look. "Tatooine... how is it you don't know that, if you were already here?"

Ashlyn bit her lower lip and hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Okay... what I'm going to tell you probably won't making any sense to you, but you gotta believe me because it's all entirely true."

Padmé nodded and listened just as attentively as Jar Jar and Artoo.

Ashlyn took a deep breath before finally starting. "I come from another world. Not planet... well, in a way... yes, since I come from a planet named Earth which is in a completely different universe than yours. Within our galaxy... or universe— call it what you will— astronomers have recently reported that there could be as many as 40 billion Earth-sized planets orbiting in the habitable zones of sun-like stars and red dwarf stars. But in our solar system, there are only eight recognized— there used to be nine, but for some reason, I completely forgot, they stopped considering Pluto as a planet.... Anyway, in my world, Earth is the only planet we can live in... without needing an astronaut suit to breathe. We don't know if there are other living beings in those other planets as we aren't yet evolved enough to discover that."

Ashlyn made sure to leave out the part about the current universe being fictional in her world. God knows what would've happened if they found out; plus she had known but bits of information about the latter. She might've known the basics like the Force, lightsabers and basically what all that has to do with weaponry and what would be considered impossible in her world, but she didn't know much of the plot or anything having to do with the story per say; she only recalls a few characters Lena may have mentioned, but even those bits of info were hazy in her memory.

Her three companions stared at her for a long moment.

"How is it? Living there?" Padmé asked.

Ashlyn stared at her in shock. "You believe me?"

Padmé shrugged. "Well, why shouldn't I? You literally just gave me a five-minute, reasonable lesson about another universe."

Ashlyn grinned at her. "Well... there is no such thing as Jedi, that I can tell you," she started with a grimace.

Padmé blinked, surprised. "No?"

"Nope," Ashlyn replied, partially giving in. "Jedi are but figments of a writer's imagination. They don't exist— they're fictional."

"Fictional?" Padmé raised her eyebrows, slightly taken aback by that new piece of information she was just given. She was also shocked; if they didn't have any Jedi— "Then who fights your wars and protects you?"

"Soldiers. Human soldiers. We may not be too evolved, but we have our fair share of advanced technology that we've invented as time went on. We have cars that are much like speeders, but with tires, which are like wheels, but thicker and bigger... they can't fly. We have subway stations, which go underground, though some are outside... boats, ships, submarines, bicycles that are kind of like cars except they have two wheels, they're much slower, and only one person can ride it... unless it's the two-seated kind. Uh... let's see, we also have planes, trains, which travel in through the subway stations, and spaceships though they're not as cool and majestic as this one."

"Do you have families of royalty?"

Ashlyn thought for a moment, then chuckled. "Actually, yes... but the whole title is starting to fade. Nowadays, we mostly have presidents, vice presidents, senators, ministers... I think we still have emperors in Asia."

"Asia?"

"Yes, it's a continent, containing forty-eight countries... which, by the look on your face, you don't know about that either. Er... let's see... um, alright, look at Earth as a galaxy, and every country as a planet, while a continent would be like a large space separating a certain amount of planets from each other because of the way they are placed in groups."

Padmé nodded, understanding a bit what Ashlyn was trying to say. "Oh, alright. But what is it like living there? Are there often wars? Is it better there than here?"

Ashlyn bit her lip. "Well, I can't really compare seeing as I have only been here for... who knows how long? Maybe two days and I have been unconscious for a majority of my time here, but even so, I couldn't give you a straight answer. It all depends on people... like, I could say that I didn't like it there, while others could say they love it because of all the technology we have... some people just really have it easy. But to answer your question about wars, there are a lot. There have only been two world wars, but there are still small ones brought on by the littlest things and sometimes the craziest."

"Oh... how old are you?" Padmé asked.

"Sixteen, and you?"

"Fourteen."

"How long have you been a handmaiden?" Ashlyn asked curiously, guessing that was what she was, taking the way she was dressed into consideration.

Padmé furrowed her brows as she hesitated for a moment. "For a while... I can't exactly... um... remember when I started, but the Queen is very kind."

Ashlyn smiled. "I haven't met her, but I don't doubt your judgment," she said, making Padmé smile just as Qui-Gon walked in.

"Ashlyn."

Ashlyn turned to look at him. "Hi... that is if you're not planning on fighting me, _Mister_ Jedi... though I can promise you I will beat you this time," she replied with a smirk.

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and chuckled as Padmé watched in surprise. "I see you are feeling well."

"As healthy as a horse... which by the look on your face, you have no idea what that is, do you?" she asked before sighing as he shook his head. "I meant I am feeling much better though I'm guessing you want an explanation?" He nodded, causing her to sigh again before she told him the same thing she explained to Padmé only moments earlier.

"Well, your world does very seem interesting." He paused for a moment and chuckled. "Our world fictional?" He chuckled again, shaking his head in slight disbelief. "Anyhow, I came here to ask you if you would like to accompany me out tomorrow."

"You want me to go with you?" Ashlyn asked in surprise. Why would he want her to go with him? Did he forget that she tried to kill him the prior day?

Qui-Gon nodded. "I must look for parts to repair the ship, and I'm going to need Artoo as well," he said.

Ashlyn then shrugged and nodded. "Sure, I would love to go with you... back to that alien... village..." Ashlyn replied with her eyebrows raised. "Who would've thought I'd actually meet an alien someday?" she mumbled to herself, making her companions chuckle.

"Jar Jar," Qui-Gon said. "You're going too." And with that, he slowly retreated.

Ashlyn chuckled. "That's my cue. See ya, Padmé," she said with a smile.

The young girl smiled back and nodded. "Artoo will be cleaned, and out the moment you are ready to leave," she assured them as the sixteen-year-old smiled one last time at her and the Gungan, and nodded before following the Jedi out, offering her services for the repairing of the ship.

The Gungan stared after them in disbelief, then in horror. By the time he regained his wits, the Jedi and the girl were out of view. Wailing in dismay, he chased after them and quickly yet clumsily falling into pace with Ashlyn.

"Ashleeene, Miss!" he gasped, throwing himself on his knees in front of the young girl. "Pleeese, me no go wit Quiggon!"

Ashlyn had stopped walking to stare at him, biting her lip in hesitation. She was inclined to agree but knew better not to. "Sorry, but Qui-Gon is right. This is a... a trading center... of some sort..." though she trailed off as she was no longer sure where she was heading with that explanation.

"She's right," a voice called from behind her. She turned to find a young— mind you, good-looking— man, in his mid-twenties, standing there, curious gaze shifting back and forth between her and the Gungan at her feet.

The latter crawled over to the young man and wrapped his arms around the latter's knees as he looked up at him with big pleading eyes. "Pleeese, Obi-One!"

"Obi-One?" Ashlyn asked, unsure if that was exactly his name due to the way the Gungan usually pronounced words.

The young man chuckled. "Obi- _Wan_. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi."

_"Why don't you ever pay attention when I tell you these things?"_

_Ashlyn rolled her eyes. "Uh, maybe because they won't help me get an A in English... French, Calculus, History— they won't help in any school subject, Lena."_

_Lena groaned. "You're no fun."_

_Ashlyn sighed. "If I asked you a question about it, would that make you feel better?" she asked, a hint of sarcasm in her tone, though Lena disregarded it and brightened at her friend's proposition._

_"Yes!"_

_Ashlyn sighed. "Fine. Who, according to you, would be considered one of the most awesome Jedi in the whole series?"_

_Lena bit her lip as she thought for a moment before a full-blown grin spread across her face. "That's easy_ —  _Obi-Wan Kenobi."_

And here he stood before her.

Dang.

Obi-Wan, she guessed, was not a full Jedi... at least not yet; he was surely close to being ready by the confident air the surrounded him, quite similar to Qui-Gon's. He was shorter than Qui-Gon, but compact and looked to be very quick. His smooth, boyish face suggested an immaturity that had been long since shed. He wore the same type of clothes as Qui-Gon, but his hair was cut short and even, save for the tightly braided pigtail that hung over his right shoulder.

"I'm Master Qui-Gon's Padawan," he said, though he elaborated by a word when she gave him a puzzled look. "Apprentice."

"Oh," she replied, then smiled. "Erm... well, I'm Ashlyn. Ashlyn Cordell... though I'm guessing you already knew that." Obi-Wan chuckled as they both turned back to the Gungan who was still pleading at their feet.

"I'm sorry, Jar Jar, but as Ashlyn said, this is a multinational spaceport, a trading center. You'll make Qui-Gon appear less obvious by going along." His brow furrowed as his gaze shifted absentmindedly to the ceiling. "I hope," he muttered to himself.

Ashlyn chuckled, grabbing his attention as she bent down to help the Gungan to back his feet. "Sorry, Jar Jar, but there isn't much we can do."

Jar Jar's shoulders slumped as he sighed, then turned on his feet. Ashlyn watched guiltily as the latter trudged disconsolately back to where Padmé was still cleaning Artoo, his mouth set in a grimace of forbearance. She, then, turned back to the young Jedi, only to find him already staring at her.

She smiled halfheartedly and let out a small laugh. "Hi."

He chuckled and returned the smile. "Hello."

"So... Padawan..." she trailed off, fighting off a feeling she did not want to feel. Homesickness. Though it was too late to do so.

They stared at each other for a moment, not really knowing what to say to each other.

Ashlyn suddenly laughed, shaking her head. "Wow, I'm really sorry... I swear I'm not usually this awkward."

He chuckled. "It's alright; I'm not usually like this either."

Ashlyn grinned, mischief flashing through her eyes. "Yeah." She nodded, putting on a thoughtful expression on her face. "You seem more like the kind of person who never shuts up," she teased.

Obi-Wan's face went red, though he couldn't help but laugh as well as he heard playfulness in her tone. "Hey! I'll have you know I am a very calm, quiet and composed person."

"Uh-huh." Ashlyn nodded. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

The young Jedi chuckled and shook his head. "I... uh... I heard what you told my Master about... about being from another world."

Ashlyn pretended to be shocked, though he could see right through it. "So you've been spying on me."

His face went red again. "No! I was not... I was just..."

Ashlyn laughed. "I'm playing with you. I don't mind being spied on anyway— I've got nothing to hide." She shrugged. "It's nice to meet you, by the way."

He chuckled again. "It's nice to meet you too," he replied, relieved that she didn't make a fuzz over the fact that he had, indeed, been spying on her earlier.

Ashlyn didn't understand why she instantly started feeling homesick when she met Obi-Wan, though she later realized it was because he kind of reminded her of her older brother. Though despite the homesickness she managed to hide easily, they got along pretty well. He was just as surprised as his Jedi Master, the Gungan, and Padmé when she told _him_ about her world as it wasn't the same overhearing and being told personally, though, just like the other three and the Droid, he believed her without a second thought or even the slightest hesitation.

Though the sudden protectiveness he felt towards her instantly surfaced the moment his Master told him he would be heading out with Ashlyn the next day.

The young Padawan refused to let her go though she ignored him there and couldn't wipe that silly smirk off her face every time the Jedi Master would side with her, though he was starting to be hesitant about it as well. But unlike Obi-Wan, he wouldn't go on and on about it. He trusted she was as fine as she said she was, being Force-sensitive and very strong for a girl her age, and he was sure that she would let them know if she didn't feel alright.

Though even after a day, Obi-Wan wouldn't let it go.

The young Padawan learner was hoisting the hyperdrive out of a floor panel when he tried to convince her otherwise, again, trying to act casual about it, yet failing miserably.

"I still think this is too dangerous. Ashlyn should stay here, Master. We both know the critical injuries she sustained—"

"Uh, she— Ashlyn— is standing right here. And don't worry about me, Obi-Wan. I'll be fine," Ashlyn replied with a shrug. "What's the ship's status?"

"Ashlyn..."

"Obi-Wan..."

"It's too—"

"Dangerous, I know. I heard you the first time... and the twenty-seven times you've repeated it, but for the twenty- _eighth_ time, I'll be _fine_. Let's not forget I almost defeated your precious Jedi Master."

" _'Almost'_ being the keyword," Qui-Gon piped in with a grin, making Ashlyn childishly stick her tongue out at him.

"I was weak from being previously injured. If it weren't for that, I would've beaten you within three seconds," Ashlyn replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Why three?"

Ashlyn shrugged, dropping her arms to her sides. "I don't know. I was taught in literature that three is 'the magic number,'" she replied, putting air quotes on the last three words she said. "... anyway, Obi, status, now."

Obi-Wan sighed and decided to ignore her, knowing there was no changing her mind, as he was getting out of the floor panel. "The hyperdrive generator's shot, Master. We'll need a new one," he told his Master, Qui-Gon, who was waiting for him with Ashlyn.

"I thought as much." Qui-Gon sighed. "That'll really complicate things." he said, the previous conversation and good mood forgotten.

The Jedi Master sighed and knelt next to his protege. "Well, we can't risk any communication with Coruscant this far out on the edge of the galaxy. It might be intercepted, and our position revealed. We'll have to get by on our own. Be wary, Obi-Wan... I sense a disturbance in the Force."

"I feel it also, Master," said Obi-Wan. "I will be careful."

"A disturbance? In the Force?" Ashlyn asked, puzzled.

"Yes, the Force is―"

"Oh, I know what the Force is," she cut Obi-Wan off. "It's a metaphysical, spiritual, binding, omnipotent and ubiquitous power that holds enormous importance for both the Jedi and Sith monastic orders. But a disturbance in it? How do you feel it? What causes such disturbances?"

Qui-Gon looked at her with prideful eyes. They had all just met her, but for some reason, even being the cautious person he is, he found he could trust her without a second thought. It had barely been two days they'd known each other, but he already looked down at her as the daughter he never had, and he liked how unpredictable she was, surprising him with a sudden knowledge, not even someone from 'another world,' as she said, would have.

"Wounds in the Force were the most easily recognizable form of disturbance. Such massive disturbances are created from the most catastrophic events of death and destruction. Force adepts, like us Jedi, could often feel such disturbances from across the galaxy," Qui-Gon answered.

Both, Master and Padawan, watched Ashlyn as she furrowed her brows. By the hard look in her eyes, they could easily tell she was trying to sense it too.

"You're not supposed to be able to detec―" Obi-Wan cut himself off when Ashlyn suddenly gasped.

There was a painful tug in the pit of her stomach, a heavy invisible force now weighting on her shoulders and a painful hammering in her head. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon looked at her in shock. No one has ever been able to sense such Force or disturbance within barely a day of knowing what they were, even less from such distance they were from it― that girl must really be special.

Both men were snapped out of their shock when Ashlyn started muttering profanities in a language they did not understand while clutching her head.

Obi-Wan stepped forward. "Are you alright?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, making his mind race when he realized he just touched her. 

He quickly pulled his hand away, not quite sure why he was blushing or how this teenage girl managed to have that effect on him. It was like nothing he had ever felt before in his whole twenty-five years of living.

Shaking her head as if to clear her mind, Ashlyn replied, "I'm fine. I just... _whoa_." She blinked a few times before shaking her head again. "I wasn't really expecting that 'disturbance' to be such a pain."

Qui-Gon gave her a reassuring smile. "In due time, you will get used to it and it will no longer hurt. Now, are you ready to go?"

She smiled back a small smile and nodded.

"Alright, don't forget your weapons. We never know when we may need to fight. But keep it well hidden under―"

"Sorry, sir, but I honestly don't do these kind of clothes," she cut him off, eyeing what looked a lot like a parka. "I would rather just hide them in my jacket or put them in my bag. Besides, most of the denizens there have already seen me, and I was wearing this, so it's not really a problem." She shrugged while putting her leather jacket on and gently placing her 'lightdaggers' and lightsaber in her bag before swinging it across her shoulder so it wouldn't fall off easily.

Qui-Gon hesitated a bit before sighing and nodding. "Alright," he said before turning back to Obi-Wan. "Don't let anyone send any transmissions while I'm gone."

With that, they started their trek across the desert toward the city of Mos Espa. In the distance, a strange looking caravan made its way toward the spaceport.

"Dis sun doen murder ta mesa skin," said Jar Jar, stumbling to keep up with the two Jedi. Suddenly, Captain Panaka and Padmé came running out of the spaceship to catch up with them.

"Wait!" Captain Panaka called out, slightly panting. He was sweating.

Ashlyn and Qui-Gon stopped as they caught up. Ashlyn couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and look at them curiously when she saw Padmé was dressed in rough peasant's garb. Padmé had an air of royalty and authority flowing around her that Ashlyn couldn't help but find it quite odd that she was only a handmaiden, and kind of weird to see her dressed the way she was at that moment; she undoubtedly could pull off wearing a ball gown or anything a queen would wear.

"Wait," said the Captain. "Her Highness commands you to take her handmaiden with you. She wishes for Padmé to give her own report of what you might―"

Qui-Gon gave him a hard look. "No more commands from Her Highness today, Captain. This spaceport is not going to be pleasant..."

"The Queen wishes it," Panaka interrupted him right back, his face angry and set. "She is curious. She wishes to know more about this planet."

The girl took a step forward. Her dark eyes found Qui-Gon's. "I've been trained in self-defense. I speak a number of languages. I am not afraid. I can take care of myself."

Captain Panaka sighed, looking over his shoulder toward the ship. "Don't make me go back and tell her you refuse."

Qui-Gon hesitated, prepared to do exactly that. Then he looked at Padmé again, saw strength in her eyes, and changed his mind.

Ashlyn saw what he saw, though she could still see the hesitation in his wiseful eyes. She narrowed her own, furrowing her brows; she should be able to see that Padmé might actually be useful. Traveling with another girl, they might suggest a family in transit― two sisters, a father, an alien for a family friend, and a family droid― and present a less aggressive look.

She placed a hand on his arm, bringing his attention to her. "We don't need to send her back; she'll be fine with us. _Family_."

Qui-Gon caught her hint, though he still hesitated a bit more before sighing. "I don't have time to argue the matter, Captain. I still think this is a bad idea, but she may come." He then turned to Padmé. "Stay close to Ashlyn," he said, giving Padmé a stern look. Padmé instantly glided over to Ashlyn with a big grin on her face; she didn't know much about the 'visitor', but just like everyone else, she had taken a liking to her and already saw her as an older sister.

He started away again, the others trailing. Captain Panaka stood watching with undisguised relief as the strange little procession of Jedi Master, 'outlander,' handmaiden, Gungan, and astromech droid moved off into the sweltering landscape toward the city.

It was not yet mid-afternoon by the time the members of the little company under Qui-Gon's command reached Mos Espa. Mos Espa was large and sprawling and had the look of a gnarled serpent hunkered down in the sand to escape the heat. The buildings were domed and thick-walled and curved to protect against the sun, and the stalls and shops were fronted by awnings and verandas that provided a measure of shade to their vendors. Streets were broad and packed with beings of every shape and size, most from off planet. Some rode the desert-seasoned eo pies. Domesticated banthas, massive and horned, and lumbering dew backs hauled carts, sleds, and wagons that ran on wheels and mechanical tracks by turn, a mishmash of commerce trafficking between Tatooine's smaller ports and the planets of star systems beyond.

They passed dangerous looking denizens of all types. Padmé looked around in awe at this exotic environment while Ashlyn was simply acting her normal casual self about it as she had already gotten used to the strange things this world held even if it had only been a few days; it had never been hard for her to adapt to new environs.

"... moisture farms for the most part. Some indigenous tribes and scavengers," Qui-Gon explained, glancing around. "The few spaceports like this one are havens for those who do not wish to be found..."

"... like us," Padmé said dryly. Ashlyn placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

A pair of domesticated banthas rumbled down the broad avenue, hairy bulks clearing a path for a sled train of quarry blocks and metal struts, horned heads nodding sleepily, padded feet stirring sand and dust in thick clouds with each lumbering step. Their driver dozed atop the foremost sled in the train, small and insignificant in their shadow.

Jar Jar Binks stayed as close as he could manage to the Jedi and the girls, his eyes darting left and right, head swiveling as if it might twist right off his shoulders. He was in a constant state of panic, his eyes roaming his surroundings nervously ever so quickly. Nothing he saw was familiar or welcome. Hard looks followed after him. Sharp eyes measured him for things he would just as soon not think about. Stares were at best challenging and at worst unfriendly. He did not like this place. He wished he were almost anywhere else.

"Dissen berry berry bad." He swallowed against a dryness in his throat that was caused by more than the heat. "Nutten good 'bout ills place!" He took a careless step and found himself ankle deep in foul-smelling ooze."Ooooh... icky... icky... goo."

Artoo rolled cheerfully along at his side, beeping and chirping in a futile effort at reassuring the Gungan that all was well.

They traveled the main street of the spaceport to its far end and turned down a side street that led to a small plaza ringed with salvage dealers and junk shops. Qui-Gon glanced at the mounds of engine parts, control panels, and communication chips recovered from starships and speeders. Ashlyn slightly smiled, but then it turned into a grimace when she recognized the department.

"We'll try one of the smaller dealers first," Qui-Gon said then raised an eyebrow when he noticed the expression on Ashlyn's face.

She chuckled and shook her head, giving him a sheepish look. "I got into a fight here two days ago and ended up being knocked out... then I woke up in a house not too far from here and may have freaked out a bit."

Qui-Gon chuckled before leading them to the little junk shop that had a huge pile of broken spaceships stacked up behind it.

Qui-Gon, Ashlyn, Jar Jar, Padmé and Artoo entered the dingy junk shop and were greeted by Watto, a pudgy blue alien who flew on short little wings like a hummingbird.

" _Guta naloya_ ," Watto greeted, flying over to the visitors. " _Ha chuba da nala?_ " **(Good day to you. What do you want?)**

A Toydarian, Qui-Gon thought. He knew enough to recognize one, but not much else.

"We need parts for a J-type 327 Nubian," Ashlyn said.

The Toydarian fairly beamed with delight, his reticular snout curling over his toothy mouth and making odd smacking noises to which Ashlyn couldn't help but cringe. Okay, maybe she still hadn't fully adapted to her new environs.

"Ah yes, ah yes! Nubian! We have lots of that." The sharp, bulbous eyes flicked from one face to the other, ending with the Gungan. "What's this?"

Jar Jar shrank behind Qui-Gon and Ashlyn fearfully.

Ashlyn gave the alien a hard look. "Never mind that." She brushed the Toydarian's question aside. "Can you help us or not?" This time, Padmé had to place a hand on her shoulder to keep her calm, something that worked out perfectly, much to Ashlyn's surprise.

"Can you pay me or not-that's the question!" The skinny blue arms crossed defiandy over the rounded torso as the Toydarian regarded them with disdain. "What kinda junk you after, farmer?"

"My droid here has a readout of what I need," Qui-Gon said calmly with a glance down at Artoo.

Still hanging midair in front of Qui-Gon's nose, the Toydarian glanced over one shoulder. " _Peedunkel! Naba dee unko!_ " **(Boy, get in here! Now!)**

A small, disheveled, blond-haired boy whom Ashlyn instantly recognized as the boy she had saved, Anakin, raced in from the salvage yard, coming to an uncertain stop in front of them. He was about nine years old, very dirty― his clothes were ragged and thick with grime, and he had the look of someone about to be given a beating.

He flinched as the Toydarian wheeled back and lifted a hand in admonishment.

Watto turned to Anakin. " _Coona tee-tocky malia?_ " he demanded. **(What took you so long?)**

" _Mel tassa cho-passa..._ " the boy trailed off, blue eyes taking in the newcomers with a quick glance. **(I was cleaning the bin like you...)**

" _Chut-Chut! Ganda doe wallya. Me dwana no bata_ ," Watto ordered. **(Watch the store. I've got some selling to do here.)** He flitted back around to face his customers, with a smile plastered on his ugly face, making Ashlyn scrunch her face in disgust. "Soooo, let me take― a thee out back. Ni you'll find what you need."

Artoo and Qui-Gon followed Watto toward the junk yard, leaving Jar Jar and Padmé with Ashlyn and the young boy Anakin. Jar Jar picked up a gizmo, trying to figure out its purpose.

Qui-Gon him a stern look, then turned to Ashlyn and gave her a meaningful look. "Watch him," he said before following Watto as Ashlyn groaned.

"Why do I have to babysit?" she muttered.

"Don't touch anything," Qui-Gon called over his shoulder, his tone of voice sharp. He didn't need to elaborate; everyone knew who that last comment was meant for. 

Jar Jar put the item down and made a face at Qui-Gon's departing back, sticking out his long tongue in defiance. When the Jedi was out of sight, he picked up the part again, causing Ashlyn to let out a small breathy laugh while shaking her head at how silly her alien friend was.

Anakin could not take his eyes off her. He noticed her the moment he entered Watto's shop, even before Watto said anything, and he hadn't been able to stop looking at her since. He barely heard what Watto said to him about watching the shop as he had been so wrapped up in his thoughts; he was happy to see her again. He barely noticed the strange-looking creature that had come in with her and was poking around in the shelves and bins, even less the other girl who was watching him look at her friend, with amused, knowing eyes. Even after the girl noticed he was staring at her, he could not help himself.

He moved now to an open space on the counter, hoisted himself up, and sat watching her while pretending to clean a transmitter cell. Padmé still watched the little boy looking at her friend in amusement; she wanted to laugh, but held it in, not wanting to embarrass neither Ashlyn or the little boy who was undoubtedly smitten by the latter. She didn't know the boy, but she could already see he liked Ashlyn very much, something to which she was sure the outsider was quite oblivious.

Ashlyn looked around the store in interest and longing; it was the only thing so far that reminded her of her home and one of her loved ones. Anakin tried to not look at her but couldn't help himself. He looked closer and instantly knew that she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life. In fact, this time he was a hundred percent certain that he was in the presence of an angel, even though he'd never met one before.

Ashlyn finally noticed him staring and started feeling a little embarrassed by it.

She was looking back at him now, embarrassment soon turning into curiosity. She was tall and slender, with long, raven black hair braided to the side, grayish, hazel-nut eyes twinkling in the bit of light that reached her, and a face he found so beautiful that he had nothing else to which he could compare it to but that of an angel. He noticed she was dressed in the same clothes she had worn the last time he'd seen her. They were roughened and slightly dirty with sand, but she seemed very self-possessed.

She gave him an amused smile, and he felt himself melting in confusion and wonder.

"Are you an angel?" he suddenly blurted out.

Ashlyn raised her eyebrows in surprise and looked back at Padmé, who seemed very amused by this, before looking back at the boy.

"What?"

"An angel," Anakin repeated. "They live on the Moons of Lego, I think. They are the most beautiful creatures in the universe. They are good and kind, and so pretty they make even the most hardened space pirates cry like small children."

Ashlyn looked at him, not knowing what to say. She wasn't one to constantly receive compliments and when she did, they were simple 'You look nice' or 'You're very smart' and... well, mostly normal common compliments, but never has she been complimented to look like an angel, not even by her boyfriend or any other guy who has had a crush on her.

She opened her mouth and closed it multiple times before finally letting out a small laugh in slight disbelief. This little boy was really something. "I'm flattered you think of me as such, but I'm not..." she trailed off, not sure how to finish.

"You must be one of them," Anakin insisted. "Maybe you just don't know it."

"You're a funny little boy." The amused smile returned. "How do you know so much?"

Anakin smiled back and shrugged modestly. "I listen to all the traders and pilots who come through here," he explained. "I'm a pilot, you know. Someday, I'm going to fly away from this place."

"You're a pilot?" Ashlyn asked, interested in that comment.

"All my life," Anakin said in a proud voice.

"How long have you been here?" Padmé asked, walking over to stand beside Ashlyn.

Anakin pursed his lips. "Since I was very little― three, I think. My mom and I were sold to Gardulla the Hutt, but she lost us to Watto, betting on the pod races. Watto's a lot better master, I think."

"You're... a slave?" Padmé asked in shock, making Ashlyn mentally face-palm herself.

The way she said it made Anakin feel ashamed and angry. He glared at her defiantly. "I am a person, and my name is Anakin."

"I'm sorry," Padmé said quickly, looking upset and embarrassed. "I don't fully understand, I guess."

"This is a strange place to us," Ashlyn explained calmly, shocking Padmé. "We've never been anywhere like this before." _Especially not me_ , Ashlyn mentally added.

Anakin studied her intently for a moment, thinking of other things, wanting to tell her of them. He was still hesitant and had yet to thank her for saving him and his friends two days before.

"You are a strange girl to me," he said instead. He swung his legs out from the counter. "My name is Anakin Skywalker."

She smiled. "Ashlyn Cordell. And this is my friend, Padmé. Padmé Naberrie."

The strange creature both girls had come in with wandered back to the front of the shop and bent over a stout little droid body with a bulbous nose. Reaching up curiously, it pushed at the nose with one finger. Instantly armatures popped out from every direction, metal limbs swinging into place. The droid's motors whizzed and whirred, and it jerked to life and began moving forward. Ashlyn's odd companion went after it with a moan of dismay, grabbing on in an effort to slow it down, but the droid continued marching through the shop, knocking over everything it came in contact with.

If this was a cartoon, Ashlyn would've had a huge drop of sweat in the back of her head. "Jar Jar..."

"Hey..." Anakin called out, unable to keep himself from laughing.

"Wha?"

"Hit the nose!"

"Oh!" The creature did as it was told, pounding the droid's nose wildly. 

The droid stopped at once, the arms and legs retracted, the motors shut down, and the droid went still. Both Anakin and Padmé were laughing now. 

Ashlyn simply chuckled, shaking her head in amusement, though her small smile instantly faded as memories from the two previous days, from before she had landed in that strange world, came back into her mind. She absentmindedly wrapped her arms around herself and glanced around, trying to act casual again by looking at the machines lying around, but her act wasn't good enough anymore; Anakin and Padmé could see something was wrong, but remembering the scars they had seen on her, they did not want to pressure her with it yet.

Looking back at Jar Jar, Ashlyn found herself smiling again. She might've ended up there in the worst way possible, but she liked being there. This could be a fresh start for her; she already had friends there. Friends that felt like family already. Watching her silly alien friend, Ashlyn found herself laughing with the others and their laughter increased as they saw the look on the unfortunate creature's long-billed face.

Anakin looked at Ashlyn and the girl at him. Padmé watched them as their laughter died away. Ashlyn reached up to touch her hair self-consciously, but she did not divert her gaze.

"I'm going to marry you," the boy said suddenly.

There was a moment of silence, and she began laughing again, a sweet musical sound he didn't mind at all. The Gungan rolled his eyes, and Padmé bit her lip to stop herself from laughing as well as her eyes caught sight of how serious the boy was, though she did not fail to notice when Ashlyn had subconsciously brought the fingers of her right hand over to a ring that beautifully adorned her left.

"I mean it," he insisted.

Ashlyn shook her head, laughter dying away. "You are an odd one," she said, fighting back a smile. "Why do you say that?"

He hesitated. "I guess because it's what I believe..."

Her smile was dazzling. "Well, I'm afraid I can't marry you..." She paused, searching her memory for his name.

"Anakin," he said.

"Anakin." She cocked her head, rubbing a brow. "You're just a little boy."

His gaze was intense as he faced her. "I won't always be," he said quietly. Again, Padmé noticed Ashlyn subconsciously touch the ring on her left hand.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the salvage yard, Watto was studying the screen of a portable memory bank he held in one hand, tracing through his inventory record. Qui-Gon, arms folded into his farmer's poncho, stood waiting patiently, the R2 unit at his side.

"... a T-14 hyperdrive generator! Thee in luck, I'm the only one hereabouts who has one... but thee might as well buy a new ship. It would be cheaper, I think... Saying of which, how's thee going to pay for all this?" Watto asked.

"I have 20,000 Republic dataries."

"Republic credits?! Republic credits are no good out here. I need something more real..." Watto said.

"I don't have anything else." Qui-Gon raised his hand. "But credits will do fine."

"No they won'ta."

Qui-Gon, using his mind power, waved his hand again. "Credits will do fine."

"No, they won'ta. What you think you're some kinda Jedi, waving your hand around like that? I'm a Toydarian. Mind tricks don'ta work on me, only money. No money, no parts! No deal! And no one else has a T-14 hyperdrive; I promise you that."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Anakin and Padmé were talking now while Ashlyn was keeping watch, patiently waiting for Qui-Gon to come back, though she couldn't help but think through Anakin's words. She had gotten slightly uncomfortable and opted for looking around the shop to clear her mind, though that didn't help much as she kept being overcome by memories.

Like _the_ one when she was a child. Just like Anakin, Zack had told her they would eventually end up together, one way or another. Sure enough, they dated. They were a couple, and he gave her the promise ring, not too long ago.

She let out a shaky breath, trying to shrug those memories away, though when she couldn't, she decided, after a while, to join in the conversation, but Padmé decided to take a look outside, so she walked over to the door and glanced around at the other shops and houses surrounding the one they were in with interest, leaving Ashlyn and Anakin for which the boy mentally thanked her for.

"... wouldn't have lasted long if I weren't so good at fixing things," Anakin replied to one of Ashlyn's questions. She smiled at him in sympathy. She didn't know what being an actual slave was like but she kind of was one herself back at home, and well, her father treated her like one― he treated her much worse than one.

Jar Jar pulled a part out of a stack of parts to inspect it, and they all came tumbling down. He struggled to catch them, only to knock more down. Ashlyn and Anakin were completely oblivious of his actions as they were having a pretty deep conversation.

Qui-Gon hurried into the shop, followed by Artoo. "We're leaving. Jar Jar? Padmé?" Padmé watched, giggling as the stuff Jar Jar was juggling crashed to the ground.

"It was nice to meet you," she said to Anakin before walking outside and waiting for the rest to join her so they could leave.

Ashlyn gave Anakin an adoring look. "I'm glad to have met you, Anakin," she said with a warm smile, walking backward towards the door. "Stay out of trouble, kid." She winked at him before turning around and following the rest of her group out of the store, leaving Anakin watching her sadly as she left.

"I was glad to meet you too!" he called after her, a reluctance evident in his voice, as Jar Jar and the Droid followed her. He smiled when he heard her laugh that sounded like a chorus of bells to his ears.

Jar Jar and Artoo were last to leave the shop as Watto flew in from the salvage yard, shaking his head in disgust.

" _Ootmians! Tinka me chasa hopoe ma booty na nolia_ ," he muttered. **(Outlanders! They think they know everything.)**

Anakin was still staring longingly after Ashlyn, his gaze fixed on the empty doorway. " _La lova num botaffa_ ," Anakin replied. **(They seemed nice to me.)**

Watto rolled his eyes and shook his head tiredly. " _Fweepa niaga. Tolpa da bunky dunko_." ( **Clean the racks... then you can go home.)** Anakin grinned and let out a "yippee" before running out the back.

Qui-Gon led his companions back through the lime plaza of salvage shops toward the main avenue. At a place where two buildings divided to form a shadowed niche, the Jedi Master moved everyone from view and brought out his comlink from beneath his poncho. The two girls and Artoo stood waiting patiently, but Jar Jar prowled the space as if trapped, eyes fixed nervously on the busy street.

When Obi-Wan responded to the comlink's pulse, Qui-Gon quickly filled him in on the situation. "Are you sure there isn't anything of value left on board?" he concluded.

"A few containers of supplies, the Queen's wardrobe, maybe. But not enough for you to barter with. Not in the amounts you're talking about," Obi-Wan replied.

Qui-Gon nodded. "All right. I'm sure another solution will present itself. I'll check back later." He put his comlink away and started out into the main street. Jar Jar grabbed his arm in a pleading gesture.

"Noah gain... Noah gain da beings hereabouts cawazy. Wesa be robbed un crunched," the alien pleaded.

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Not likely. We have nothing of value, that's our problem."

Qui-Gon, Ashlyn, Padmé, Jar Jar, and Artoo moved out into the street. Jar Jar was walking behind the others. They walked by an outdoor cafe filled with a rough gang of aliens, one of which is especially ugly, Sebulba, a spider-like creature, whom Ashlyn pretended not to notice. Jar Jar stopped for a moment in front of a stall selling dead frogs hanging on a wire. He looked around to see if anyone was looking, then stuck out his tongue, and got hold of one, pulling it into his mouth. Unfortunately, the frog was tied tightly to the wire. The vendor suddenly appeared.

" _Ay, ay. Yawoba wonga?_ " the vendor asked **(Are you going to pay for that?)**

Jar Jar turned his head in surprise.

" _Uga wupiupi wep_ ," the vendor continued. **(It costs seven wupiupi.)**

Jar Jar opened his mouth, and the frog snapped away, ricocheted around the market, and landed in Sebulba's soup, splashing him. Jar Jar moved away from the vendor, trying to go unnoticed. Unfortunately, Sebulba did notice, got frustrated, jumped up on the table and grabbed the hapless Gungan.

" _Chuba_!" Sebulba snarled.

"Ooops," Jar Jar said with a nervous laugh.

Jar Jar started to whistle as he walked away. Angry, Sebulba got up, hopped over to Jar Jar and kicked him.

" _Ni chuba ni?_ " he demanded, holding the frog up to the Gungan threateningly. **(Is this yours?)**

"Who, mesa?" Jar Jar asked innocently.

Sebulba grabbed Jar Jar by the neck. Ashlyn stopped and turned around, feeling a presence missing. She could feel her blood boiling inside of her as she watched the filthy creature threatening her alien friend.

"Er... sir, someone's in trouble," she called after the Jedi, loud enough for only him to hear. He turned around and looked over to where she was now pointing. He sighed and groaned.

He looked over at her helplessly, making her roll her eyes. "Fine, I'll go, oh, mighty Jedi Master," she said with a hint of sarcasm in her tone before making her way over to the Gungan, the Jedi, the handmaiden, and the Droid following not far behind.

Jar Jar turned to see Anakin pushing his way through the crowd, coming up to stand next to the Dug. The boy seemed unafraid of the creature, undeterred by the hard-eyed crowd as stood up to Sebulba in a very self-assured way, though inside he wished his angel would come and help him out, even though he was sure she was far gone.

Sebulba stopped his assault on Jar Jar and turned to Anakin, cruel face twisting with disdain as he caught sight of the boy who gave him an appraising look.

" _Chess ko Sebulba..._ " He taunted. **(Careful, Sebulba...)** "This one's very well connected."

"Tooney rana dunko, shag?" he snapped, demanding to know what the boy meant.

Anakin shrugged. "Connected― as in Hutt." The blue eyes fixed the Dug and saw a hint of fear in the other's face. " _Cha pooka uman geesa... Matesa ratico ponipa chop chowa_ ," he warned mockingly. **(He's a big time outlander... I'd hate to see you diced before we race again.)**

" _Nic me chouwa wimo noke maka noke! Una noto wo shag, me wompity du pom pom_ ," he snarled at the boy. **(Next time we race, boy, it will be the end of you! If you weren't a slave, I'd squash you now.)**

With a final glare at the cringing Jar Jar, Sebulba wheeled away, taking his companions with him, back to their tables and their food and drink.

Anakin stared after the Dug. " _Eh, chee bana do mullee ra_ ," Anakin said softly, though could not help the mischievous grin that spread across his face, making Sebulba stop dead in his tracks. **(Yeah, it'd be a pity if you had to pay for me.)**

The alien turned around and was about to assault the boy this time, but Ashlyn had finally reached them.

" _Keep those creepy legs of yours moving before I break them, Spider-man_ ," she warned, finally reaching them, making the ugly creature take a step back.

" _Wouldn't want to repeat past events now, would we?_ " she added with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest.

Mustering up the courage, Sebulba stepped forward towards her, making Anakin subconsciously grab onto the hem of her shirt to pull her back, but she stood her ground.

" _If I remember correctly, you were the one who ended unconscious_ ," Sebulba sneered, smirking too.

Ashlyn scoffed. " _Yeah, that was because I was fighting about seven of your big fellas and then one of your buddies hit me on the head with a damn rock, which is unfair since I was fighting without a weapon. And besides, I would so beat you in a one-on-one combat_."

Qui-Gon, Padmé, and Artoo had only been approaching them, but they had heard the whole thing and watched Ashlyn in shock as they heard her speaking another language without seeming to realize it.

" _Now run along, Spidey_ ," she all but growled, shooing him away with her hand. " _Not everyone likes spiders_ ," she added in a mutter, making Anakin giggle as he let go of her.

Sebulba growled at her before walking away. Ashlyn bent down to help Jar Jar up as her group finally joined them.

"Hey, Anakin," she said with a smile.

He blushed but smiled back, happy to see her again. "Hi!" he greeted but looked over at the rest of the group so it wouldn't look like he was only saying it to her. That would be very rude, but he actually didn't care much about how rude it seemed; he was happy to see Ashlyn again so soon.

"Hi, there," Qui-Gon said with a kind smile.

"Your buddy here was about to be turned into orange goo. He picked a fight with a Dug. An especially dangerous Dug called Sebulba," Anakin explained, worriedly glancing up at Ashlyn who was found to be having some sort of silent communication with Padmé.

"Mesa haten crunchen. Dat's da last ting mesa wanten," Jar Jar defended himself.

Qui-Gon gave Jar Jar a careful once-over, glanced around at the crowd, and took the Gungan by the arm. "Nevertheless, the boy saved you from a beating. You have a penchant for finding trouble, Jar Jar." He gave Anakin a short nod. "Thank you, my young friend."

Ashlyn caught Anakin staring at her and gave him a warm smile as well, and the boy felt himself blush with pride.

"But... but... mesa doen nutteen!" Jar Jar insisted, still trying to defend himself, hands gesturing for emphasis.

They started walking down the crowded street, Anakin following them, walking beside Ashlyn.

"You were afraid," the boy told him, looking up at the long-billed face solemnly. "Fear attracts the fearful. Sebulba was trying to overcome his fear by squashing you." He cocked his head at the Gungan. "You can help yourself by being less afraid."

"And that works for you?" Ashlyn asked as Padmé gave him a wry, skeptical look.

Anakin smiled and shrugged. "Well... up to a point."

Anxious to spend as much time as possible with the girl, he persuaded the group to follow him a short distance down the street to a fruit stand, a ramshackle affair formed by a ragged makeshift awning stretched over a framework of bent poles.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Obi-Wan stood in front of the Naboo spacecraft as the wind picked up and began to whip at his robe. Captain Panaka exited the ship and joined him.

"This storm will slow them down," Obi-Wan said.

"It looks pretty bad," the Captain agreed.

Suddenly his comlink beeped. He quickly pulled it from his belt. " _We're receiving a message from home_ ," a voice from the other end of the comlink said.

"We'll be right there," Captain Panaka said as they walked back into the ship.


	3. Chapter Three

Anakin and the group stopped at a fruit stand. Boxes of brightly colored fruit were arranged on a rack tilted toward the street for viewing. Jira, a weathered old lady, gray-haired and stooped, her simple clothing patched and worn, rose from a stool to greet them on their approach.

"How are you feeling today, Jira?" Anakin asked her, giving her a quick hug.

The old lady smiled. "The heat's never been kind to me, you know, Annie."

"Guess what?" the boy replied quickly, beaming. "I've found that cooling unit I've been searching for. It's pretty beat up, but I'll have it fixed up for you in no time, I promise. That should help."

Jira reached out to brush his pink cheek with her wrinkled hand, her smile broadening. "You're a fine boy, Annie."

Anakin shrugged off the compliment and began scanning the fruit display. "I'll take five pallies, Jira." He glanced at Ashlyn eagerly. "You'll like these. "

He reached into his pocket for the truguts he had been saving, but when he brought them out to pay Jira, he dropped one. Qui-Gon, who stood next to him, bent to retrieve it. As he did, his poncho opened just far enough that the boy caught sight of the lightsaber hanging from the belt about his waist. The boy's eyes went wide, but he masked his surprise by focusing on the coins. He only had four, he found.

"Whoops, I thought I had more," he said quickly, not looking up. "Make that four pallies, Jira. I'm not that hungry anyway." That made Ashlyn frown.

The old woman gave the fruit to the boy and took the coins from him. A gust of wind whipped down the street, rattling the framework of poles and causing the awning to billow. A second gust sent dust swirling in all directions.

"Here, you'll like these pallies... Here," Anakin said, not much fazed by the weather.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Thank you." He took them, putting them in a little pouch under his poncho, revealing, again, for a moment, his lightsaber.

Jira rubbed her arms with her gnarled hands. "Gracious, my bones are aching. There's a storm coming, Annie. You'd better get home quick."

The wind gusted in a series of sharp blasts that sent sand and loose debris flying.

Anakin glanced at the sky, then at Qui-Gon. "Do you have shelter?"

The Jedi Master nodded. "We'll head back to our ship. Thank you again, my young friend, for―"

"Is your ship far?" the boy interrupted hurriedly. 

All around them, shopkeepers and vendors were closing and shuttering windows and doors, carrying goods and wares inside, wrapping coverings over displays and boxes.

"It's on the outskirts," Ashlyn answered, turning away from the stinging gusts of sand.

Anakin took her hand quickly, tugging on it. "You'll never reach the outskirts in time. Sandstorms are very, very dangerous. Come with me. I'll take you to my home; you can wait it out there. My mom won't mind. Hurry!" Anakin said, dragging her away. With the wind howling all about them and the air clouded with sand, the rest of the group followed them as Anakin rushed down the windy street, pulling Ashlyn along. Artoo whistled along the way.

The sandstorm raged through the streets of Mos Espa in a blinding, choking whirlwind that tore at clothes and exposed skin with relentless force. Anakin held Ashlyn's hand so as not to lose her, the farmer, the handmaiden, the amphibious creature, and the Artoo unit trailing behind, fighting to reach his home in the city's slave quarters while there was still time. Other residents and visitors struggled past, engaged in a similar pursuit, heads lowered, faces covered, bodies bent over as if weighted by age. Somewhere in the distance, an eopie bawled in fright. The light turned an odd yellowish gray, obscured by sand and grit, and the buildings of the city disappeared in a deep, impenetrable haze.

Even as he fought his way through the storm, Anakin's thoughts were directed elsewhere. He was thinking of Ashlyn, of having the chance to take her home to meet his mother, of being able to show her his projects, of holding her hand some more. It sent a flush through him that was both warm and kind of scary. It made him feel good about himself. He was thinking of the farmer, too― if that's what he was, which Anakin was pretty sure he wasn't. He carried a lightsaber, and only Jedi carried lightsabers. It was almost too much to hope for, that a real Jedi might be going to his home, to visit him. But Anakin's instincts told him he was not mistaken, and that something mysterious and exciting had brought this little group to him.

He was thinking, finally, of his dreams and his hopes for himself and his mother, thinking that maybe something wonderful would come out of this unexpected encounter, something that would change his life forever.

Anakin wasn't the only one who was lost in his thoughts. Ashlyn was too. Pursing her lips while letting Anakin drag her away, she thought for a moment. If she could make things appear out of nowhere... could she speak with someone through her mind? Well... it wouldn't hurt to try... well, maybe it would, but it wouldn't hurt anyone else... hopefully.

She hesitated. _'Obi-Wan?'_

It was silent for a moment before she heard him think back. _'Ashlyn?! How are you doing this?'_

_'No clue.'_

_'Anyway... I'm here. Are you alright? Is everything alright?'_

She rolled her eyes at his over-protectiveness. It's barely been a day, geez. _'I'm fine, calm yourself. I just need to ask you a question.'_

_'What kind of question?'_

She hid her smirk. _'A question about the weather.'_

_'Oh.'_

_'You sound happy,'_ she thought sarcastically.

She could literally picture him rolling his eyes as he responded, _'I was just expecting something more... I don't know.'_

_'How's the sand storm at the ship? Is it really bad yet?'_

The wind was starting to blow hard as Qui-Gon, Ashlyn, Padmé, Jar Jar, and Artoo followed Anakin down the street and into a slave hovel.

_'Yes, it's blowing horribly. Are you alright? Do you have shelter?'_

_'Yes, a nice young man has offered to give us shelter,'_ she thought with a smile.

_'Young man? What do you mean by 'young man'?'_

She rolled her eyes. _'Bye, Obi-Wan.'_

_'But―'_

They finally reached the slave quarters, a jumbled collection of hovels stacked one on top of the other so that they, resembled anthills, each complex linked by common walls and switchback' stairways, the plaza fronting them almost empty as the sandstorm chased everyone under cover. Anakin led his charges through the gritty gloom to his front door and pushed his way inside.

"Mom! Mom! I'm home!" he called excitedly, letting go of Ashlyn's hand and stepping forward.

Adobe walls, whitewashed and scrubbed, glimmered softly in a mix of storm-clouded sunlight admitted through small, arched windows and a diffuse electric glow from ceiling fixtures. They stood in the main room, a smallish space dominated by a table and chairs. A kitchen occupied one wall and a workspace another. Openings led to smaller nooks and sleeping rooms.

Outside, the wind howled past the doors and windows, shaving a fresh layer of skin from the exterior of the walls.

Jar Jar looked around with a mix of curiosity and relief. "Dissen cozy," he murmured.

Anakin's mother entered from a work area off to one side, brushing her hands on her dress. She was a woman of forty, her long brown hair tied back from her worn face, her clothing rough and simple. She had been pretty once, and Anakin would say she was pretty still, but time and the demands of her life were catching up with her. Her smile was warm and youthful as she greeted her son, but it faded quickly as she caught sight of the people behind him.

"Oh, my!" she exclaimed softly, glancing uncertainly from face to face. "Annie, what's this?"

Anakin beamed. "These are my friends, Mom." He smiled at Ashlyn who returned the gesture.

"Hidoe!" Jar Jar said happily. Artoo let out a little beep.

"I'm Qui-Gon Jinn," the Jedi Master presented himself before gesturing towards his group. "This is Jar Jar Binks, Padmé Naberrie, our droid Artoo-Detoo and―"

"Hello ma'am, I'm Ashlyn Cordell, but you can call me Ash or Lyn," Ashlyn said with a kind smile, stepping forward. "It's nice to... see you again."

Shmi smiled at the teenage girl, relieved she was alright. "I'm Shmi Skywalker. It's a pleasure to meet you all. I see you are feeling better, Ashlyn."

"Yes, thank you very much, ma'am. And... er... I'm sorry about going all... uh... nutty when I woke up. It's just... I've never been to a place like this before, and there were aliens and spaceships and I seriously thought I was having some weird dream, or losing my sanity... or what I had left of it," Ashlyn said with a sheepish smile, making everyone laugh except for Anakin and Jar Jar who were confused.

"Wha?" Jar Jar mumbled.

"You and me, buddy," Anakin told him in a low voice.

"It's fine, sweetheart. Just don't scare me like that again, and thank you for helping my Annie out there," the woman said with a kind smiled which Ashlyn returned almost instantly though it held a bit of sadness which Padmé did not miss. She was going to have to ask Ashlyn later on.

"It was no problem, ma'am."

"I'm building a droid," Anakin announced quickly, anxious to show Ashlyn his project. "You wanna see?"

Before she could reply, the boy's mother's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Anakin!" Resolve tightened her features. "Anakin, why are they here?"

He looked at her, confused. "There's a sandstorm, Mom. Listen."

She glanced at the door, then out the windows. The wind howled past, a river of sand and grit.

"Your son was kind enough to offer us shelter," Qui-Gon piped in, smiling as well.

There was a three-second silence before Anakin animatedly turned to Ashlyn. "You wanna see the droid I'm building?"

He had such an innocent glint in his excited bright blue eyes when she looked down at him; it was impossible for her to say 'no' even if she had wanted to. The way he looked at them all it was as if he had never had company in his home before. Ashlyn knew what that felt like. Grinning, she nodded, making him grin back as he grabbed her hand.

"Come on! I'll show you Threepio!" he exclaimed himself. Anakin led Ashlyn into the other room, Artoo following, beeping all the way.

He led Ashlyn toward his bedroom, already beginning a detailed explanation of what he was doing. The girl followed without arguing, listening attentively. Artoo went with them, beeping in response to the boy's words.

Jar Jar stayed where he was, still looking around, appearing to want someone to tell him what to do. Qui-Gon and Padmé stood facing the boy's mother in awkward silence. Grains of sand beat against the thick glass of the windows with a rapid pocking sound.

Artoo rolled through the doorway as Anakin showed off his droid, which was lying on his workbench. There was one eye in the head; the body, arms, and legs have no outer coverings.

In his bedroom, Anakin was showing Ashlyn See-Threepio. The droid lay on his workbench, deactivated at the moment because the boy was in the process of fabricating its metal skin. He had completed the internal wiring, but its torso, arms, and legs were still bare of any covering. One eye was out of its head as well, lying nearby where he had left it after tightening down the visual refractor the night before.

Ashlyn bent over his shoulder, studying the droid carefully.

"Isn't he great?" Anakin asked eagerly, anxious for her reaction. "He's not finished yet, but he will be soon."

Ashlyn smiled. "He's wonderful!" she answered, genuinely impressed.

Artoo continued to let out a few warbles.

The boy flushed with pride. "You really like him? He's a protocol droid... to help Mom. Watch!" Anakin pushed a button, and the Droid to sat up, causing Ashlyn to instantly take a step back in surprise.

Anakin smiled and took her hand.

"Relax, he isn't going to hurt you. You feel this?" Anakin said as he gently pressed her hand over the chest of the robot. She could feel it vibrating under her fingertips. She nodded. "The thing causing the vibrating is the heart, it's the main power source that keeps the droid running," he explained.

Ashlyn smiled a sad smile. "In my world, we have something similar. We call it an 'Electric Motor.' Don't really see the point in it having such a name... but, name or no name, it's useful for a lot of mechanical stuff."

Just when Anakin was about to reply, the Droid sat up at once and spoke.

"Oh, oh. Where is everybody?"

Ashlyn held back a laugh when she heard the Droid speak in a British accent.

"Oh," Anakin mumbled, making Ashlyn chuckle. Anakin rushed around hurriedly, searching, then snatched up the missing eye from his workbench and snapped it into its proper socket.

The droid looked at them. "How do you do? I am a protocol droid trained in and adept at cyborg relatives...customs and humans..."

"Ooops," Anakin said quickly. "He's a little confused."

He snatched up a long-handled tool with an electronic designator and fitted it carefully to a port in the droid's head, then ratcheted the handle several turns, studying the setting as he did so. When he had it where he wanted, he pushed a button on the handle. See-Threepio jerked several times in response. When Anakin removed the designator, the droid stood up from the workbench and faced Ashlyn.

"Oh, hello, I am See-Threepio, Human Cyborg Relations. How might I serve you?"

Anakin shrugged. "I just named him the other day, but I forgot to enter the code in his memory banks so he could tell you himself. "

Ashlyn grinned. This was the first time she came across an actual robot... well, apart from Artoo. "He's perfect."

"Oh, perfect," Threepio said.

"When the storm is over, I'll show you my racer," Anakin said to Ashlyn as Threepio started to walk away, but he paid his Droid no mind as he continued talking to Ashlyn about his projects. "I'm building a Podracer!"

Ashlyn smiled at his enthusiasm. "That doesn't surprise me."

"What do you mean?" he asked, a hurt expression taking over his face. Ashlyn smiled at him and ruffled his hair.

"A smart kid like you obviously knows how to create complex things such as droids, so it would only be logical if you raised your standards and created something even more above your level. Such as a podracer, the fastest podracer that ever hit Tatooine," she said, making him beam at her.

"I'm not surprised, but I am impressed," she added. They both chuckled as Anakin's face began to turn red, blushing.

"I'm not sure this floor is entirely stable. Oh, hello. I don't believe we've been introduced," Threepio said when he noticed Artoo. Artoo let out a flurry of beeps and whistles.

"Artoo-Detoo. A pleasure to meet you. I am See-Threepio, Human Cyborg Relations."

Artoo let out another series of beeps and whistles.

"I beg your pardon.... what do you mean, naked?" Artoo beeped. "My parts are showing? My goodness." Artoo released a laugh-like twitter.

Anakin pursed his lips. "Sort of... but don't worry; I'll fix that soon enough." He eased the droid back toward the workbench, glancing over his shoulder at Ashlyn. "By the way, Watto doesn't know about the podracer. It's a secret."

Ashlyn smiled and winked at him. "That's okay. I'm very good at keeping secrets."

Anakin, Artoo, See-Threepio, and Ashlyn all hung out together for the next few hours in Anakin's bedroom, talking about mechanics and robotics. Padmé had offered to help Shmi with dinner. It wasn't hard to tell that Anakin was surprised that Ashlyn knew so much about the mechanic things he liked, she even knew how much power it took to make a podracer engine run. He was definitely impressed with that one.

"Where did you learn all of this?" he asked her as she helped him finish up Threepio. She used one of his tools to screw in the last of the bolts on Threepio's back.

"Well, honestly, all of these machines are more similar than I thought to the ones from my world. It's just a little more advanced, but not so hard to understand... and well there's also the fact that I had a friend whose cousin owned a shop where he built machines and fixed others for a living," she said. "My friend and I always went to see him, and he taught us everything he knew."

"It must be cool spending time with people who love doing the same things you do."

She smiled sadly. "Yes, it was."

Anakin frowned. "Something happened, right? What was it?"

"He died in the process of his last creation. His shop burned down while he was still in it, passed out from going days spent without any sleep," she said with a frown.

Anakin knew it wasn't finished there. "Then what happened?"

"My friend killed himself a month later," she mumbled.

They were silent for a moment.

"Don't you ever get lonely?" he asked her. She shrugged.

"I've been alone for so long and hurt so much; my heart has gotten used to the loneliness and the pain. My heart isn't unguarded; it's always ready to put a shield up when it's about to get hurt." 

The way she spoke in such a soft velvety voice, made Anakin's heart skip a beat, but he couldn't help but feel bad as he heard the sadness in each word she said. He couldn't believe it. How can anyone even consider hurting an angel like her?

"I wouldn't hurt you, ever," Anakin said, looking at her intently.

A small smile crept its way onto her face as she looked at him. "I know," she replied. "You're a good kid." She sighed, leaning back against a wall. "A good kid from a good mother."

Anakin looked at her curiously. "What was your mom like?"

Ashlyn's smile made its way back into her face, but it was sad. "I don't remember her much, she died when I was seven, but I know she was a good woman, and beautiful too. All I remember from her physique are her eyes. I have her eyes."

"And your dad?"

Ashlyn's smile instantly disappeared, and a frown came in its place. "He was misunderstood. Too misunderstood and that cost him his sanity."

"How so?"

Ashlyn was completely silent for a moment that Anakin thought she wasn't going to answer him, but he was wrong.

"He killed my family." For a moment, neither of them said nothing until Ashlyn mumbled, "He died, killing me."

Anakin looked at her with wide eyes, and though he did not understand what she meant he felt bad for what she had to go through. It must've been really bad considering all the scars he had managed to see two days before.

"I'm sorry, that sounds horrible," he whispered.

Ashlyn looked down at her hands and shrugged. "It was... quite a while ago." _Yeah, two freakin' days ago_ , she added silently. "So talking about it doesn't hurt as much."

"But it still does, doesn't it?" Anakin asked. Ashlyn looked at him, a small smile on her lips as she ruffled up his hair once again, making him smile at her.

"It doesn't hurt when I tell someone I trust, so it doesn't hurt me when I tell you about it," she admitted. She didn't know why, but even though she didn't know this little boy so well, she felt as if she had known him her whole life and could trust him without hesitations; he felt the same way about her.

"I'm glad you trust me," he told her. After a moment of silence, Anakin spoke again. "So... what happened for him to go..."

"Crazy?" she offered with a halfhearted smile. He nodded. "My family somehow got mingled with a gang of... dugs, which in my world, we call gangsters. Even though I was only seven, at the time, I seemed to be the only clever and brave one enough to try and clear our names. I did it for my brothers and for my mother, but when I was so close to doing it for my father, they just... disappeared. I knew they weren't completely gone since they still sent threats and a few of their men to torture my father. I was afraid, and he tried to reassure us that it was all going to be fixed." She smiled sadly. "We went back to living like a normal family, our parents watching lovingly as my brothers and I played around. It was almost perfect... until my father went missing."

"He was kidnapped?"

She frowned. "Well, the first few days we thought he just left to clear his head... but then weeks went by and..."

"Then what happened?" he asked, obviously interested in her past. It was peculiar to her how everyone wanted to know who she was and where she was from. She assumed that she must've been quite an interesting subject to everyone. She was fine with talking about her past, especially to the people she could trust, but she barely knew anyone there enough to trust them, yet she felt she could trust this little boy.

She sat down on the table next to him, their shoulders touching. "He came back after two months... entirely different. He wasn't the same happy man he once was. He wasn't the same talkative man I looked up to for being such a good negotiator. It was actually from him that I learned how to negotiate. His tactics were what helped me clear our names. But the way he looked... that look in his gray eyes scared me."

"What if something happened to him?" Anakin asked.

Ashlyn sighed, and a distant look crept onto her face as the memories made their way back into her mind. "Something _did_ happen to him... but I never knew what it was. It was frightening... like if he had a switch in his brain that controlled his humanity and he turned it off. It was as if he had been emptied from all his emotions and was then nothing but a puppet. The only times you could see how he really felt after that was when he got a little tipsy after drinking too much alcohol... but he was abusive even without it...."

Anakin finally understood. "He gave you those scars."

Ashlyn blinked, snapping out of her memories and looked down at Anakin in shock. "What?"

"Those scars you have on your body. I saw them when my mom was stitching and cleaning you up, two days ago. He gave them to you, didn't he?"

"Yes, and no. I never stopped him even though I could have. I guess I was just born a hopeful person," she admitted, shrugging.

Anakin tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"My father was once a very respectable man, and when he changed... I thought that it wouldn't be so hard to change him back. My mother thought the same way, but she was too persistent and too obvious, and that caused her to lose her life exactly one month before my eighth birthday. Her death wish was that my father would be who he once was before, and I made sure I would do everything I could to bring that man back even if the cost was my own life."

She took a deep breath then continued. "My brothers decided to help me, but my younger brother, Bobbie, kept breaking down every time my father hurt me and... well, he was the next to... end with his eyes closed. Years went by, and I lived a life full of restrictions, limits... my limits had limits." She shuddered. "On my last night, I was spending time with my best friend, Lena, when a vehicle suddenly came crazily toward us. Lena tried to push me out of the way, but we were still both hit, me, coming out worst from the impact. Then when she got up to see if I was okay, she..."

"What? What happened?"

Ashlyn closed her eyes. "She was shot by one of those dugs. I didn't understand why they came after me until later on. I didn't want to leave Lena right there, but my older brother Charlie and Zack came to take me so we could run away."

"Who's Zack?"

Ashlyn smiled. "He was my first best friend since birth and later on became my boyfriend," she said, absentmindedly fiddling with the promise ring on her finger.

Anakin felt his heart drop slightly, though he didn't let it show. "Oh."

Ashlyn chuckled. "Yeah. Anyway, they took me home. Zack went to get me something to drink and my brother had gone to finish packing when my father came and started shouting. He snapped my leg and beat me up pretty badly, throwing me around and insulting me until Charlie and Zack went to stop him. They both fought him, but my father was being unfair. He shot them both. My brother died first, but Zack was still barely breathing while my father was unconscious. He told me to leave while I still could." She paused. "I didn't want to, but I still did. In the end, I ended up in an accident which my father caused, both of our lives being the cost."

Anakin was the first person she had ever told about her whole life. Even if she summed it up as much as she could, she still told him everything. He was silent for a moment as he looked at the floor.

" _Maybe he just doesn't understand. Humans tend to be a little more thick-headed than necessary,_ " Artoo said.

"I'm trying to, Artoo," Anakin said. Ashlyn blinked, shocked.

"You can understand him too?" she asked.

"Yeah," Anakin said.

"Awesome!" Ashlyn exclaimed with a huge smile.

"Ashlyn, Anakin, supper's ready," Shmi called from the kitchen. Anakin jumped down from the table, and they walked out of his bedroom, leaving Artoo and Threepio behind, but just before they entered the kitchen, the comlink Captain Panaka had given Ashlyn before they left the ship started to beep. Anakin looked at her, hearing the loud noise and wondering what it was. She gave him a reassuring smile.

"Excuse me, Anakin. I'll only be a second. You can go ahead and start eating without me," she said to him. And with that, she made her way back to his room so that no one would hear her speak. She pulled the comlink out of her pocket and pressed the flashing green button.

"Ashlyn on the line," she said.

"How has the mission been going?" Obi-Wan's voice said through the comlink.

"Well, I'm not dead, thank you," Ashlyn replied sarcastically.

"Ashlyn..."

"I'm kidding... well, I'm _not_ dead, but anyway, we've been searching for the right parts, and we finally found a place that has them..."

"But what?"

Ashlyn chuckled. "Wow, barely a day and you already know me so well. Anyway, the shop owner doesn't want what we have to offer."

"Master Jinn told me something about that. He also said that you have taken shelter in a stranger's home. So, who is this _'young man'_?"

Ashlyn rolled her eyes as she remembered mentioning that earlier as well. "Relax, Obi. Anakin is firstly most not a stranger. He is a nice nine-year-old boy, and his mother has been very kind to us, especially me, since she tended my wounds before you guys found me."

"But what do you know about those people? How do you know they aren't lying to you?"

"They're slaves, Kenobi. They don't have any reason to harm us," she replied coldly.

He was silent for a moment, and Ashlyn could tell he was deep in thought. "Alright, that's all the information I need. Thank you, Ashlyn. Padawan Kenobi out."

Rolling her eyes, she muttered sarcastically, "Yeah, okay. Senator Cordell out," before turning her comlink off as well.

The sandstorm raged on. It was now engulfing the town, including the Naboo spaceship on the outskirts of the city center, where Watto's ship was; and the slave quarters, where drifts of sand began building up against Anakin's house.

Qui-Gon, Anakin, Jar Jar, and Padmé were seated around a table. Jar Jar slurped his soup as Shmi walked over poured him a drink. Jar Jar looked up at her as she moved on. Artoo beeped, and he looked on from the corner of the room as Ashlyn walked out of Anakin's room and made her way to the kitchen. She smiled when she saw everyone was already seated around the small table. Surprisingly enough, there was still enough room left for one more. She sat down beside Anakin, who looked up at her and smiled at her. She knew that he had saved that seat for her by the way Padmé kept looking at her with a slight smirk.

"Sorry I took so long," Ashlyn mumbled before starting to eat.

"All slaves have transmitters placed inside their bodies somewhere," said Shmi, continuing what seemed like a previous conversation she was having with Qui-Gon.

"I've been working on a scanner to try and locate them, but so far no luck," Anakin said solemnly before swallowing a spoonful of soup.

Shmi smiled softly. "Any attempt to escape..."

"... and they blow you up! Boom!" Anakin exclaimed, slamming a hand onto the table.

Jar Jar had been slurping contentedly at his soup, listening with half an ear as he devoured the very tasty broth. He overdid it on hearing this, however, making such a loud noise that he stopped conversation altogether. All eyes turned on him momentarily. He lowered his head in embarrassment and pretended not to see.

"I can't believe there is still slavery in the galaxy," Padmé said, looking back at Schmi.

Ashlyn frowned. "I can't believe there's slavery at all."

Padmé nodded in agreement. "The Republic's anti-slavery laws..."

"The Republic doesn't exist out here," Shmi interrupted quickly, her voice hard. "We must survive on our own."

There was an awkward silence as Padmé looked away, not knowing what else to say.

Ashlyn cleared her throat. "So this planet would be considered a lost planet, or something?" she asked.

Shmi sighed. "Something like that."

Ashlyn looked down at her bowl in disbelief. "Geez, this is like Pluto all over again," she muttered to herself.

"Has anybody ever seen a Podrace?" Anakin asked, trying to ease the tension.

Padmé and Ashlyn looked at each other before both shaking their heads no. Ashlyn glanced at Shmi, noting the sudden concern on the woman's lined face. Jar Jar launched his tongue at a morsel of food nestled deep in a serving bowl at the far end of the table, deftly plucking it out, drawing it in, swallowing it, and smacking his lips in satisfaction. Padmé looked over at the latter as Ashlyn watched him amused. A disapproving look from Qui-Gon quickly silenced him.

"They have Podracing on Malastare. Very fast, very dangerous," Qui-Gon said.

"I don't even know _what_ Malastare is," Ashlyn muttered to herself.

Anakin grinned. "I'm the only human who can do it!" A sharp glance from his mother wiped the grin from his face. "Mom, what? I'm not bragging. It's true! Watto says he's never heard of a human doing it."

Qui-Gon smiled. "You must have Jedi reflexes if you race Pods."

Anakin smiled back. Jar Jar's tongue snaked toward the serving bowl in an effort to snare another morsel, but this time Qui-Gon was waiting hand moved swiftly, and in a heartbeat, he had secured the Gungan's tongue between his thumb and forefinger. Jar Jar froze, his mouth open, his tongue held fast, his eyes wide.

"Don't do that again," Qui-Gon advised, an edge to his soft voice.

Jar Jar tried to acknowledge with some silly mumbling. Qui-Gon released the Gungan's tongue, and it snapped back into Jar Jar's mouth. The latter massaged his billed mouth ruefully.

Anakin's young face lifted to the older man's, and his voice was hesitant. "I...I was wondering something."

Qui-Gon nodded for him to continue.

The boy cleared his throat, screwing up his courage. "You're a Jedi Knight, aren't you?" Anakin asked, making Ashlyn almost choke while drinking her water.

She cleared her now groggy throat. "Oh, wow," she muttered, staring down at her plate in disbelief.

Qui-Gon looked curiously at Anakin. "What makes you think that?"

Anakin shrugged. "I saw your laser sword. Only Jedi carry that kind of weapon."

"It's called a lightsaber," Ashlyn corrected, glaring at the spot where the Jedi Master had his weapon hidden.

Qui-Gon leaned back and slowly smiled. "Yes," he said, nodding at Ashlyn's correction before turning back to Anakin. "But perhaps I killed a Jedi and took it from him."

"Been there, tried that, didn't turn out so well," Ashlyn mumbled, glaring at him, making him smile sheepishly at her as he was the only one who heard her.

"I don't think so... No one can kill a Jedi," Anakin said.

Qui-Gon's smile faded, and there was a hint of sadness in his dark eyes. "I wish that were so..." he replied softly, only to be followed by silence.

"I had a dream I was a Jedi," the boy said quickly, anxious to talk about it now. "That I came back here and freed all the slaves. I dreamed it just the other night, when I was out in the desert." He paused, his young face expectant. "Have you come to free us?"

Ashlyn could feel her heart dropping as she read the hope in the little boy's eyes.

Qui-Gon sighed. "No, I'm afraid not..."

Anakin frowned. "I think you have... why else would you be here?" he asked, looking over at Ashlyn, looking her dead straight in the eyes.

Ashlyn's heart suddenly started beating erratically. Something about those eyes seemed familiar... those blue orbs... Suddenly an enormous amount of pain entered her mind. Frowning, she looked back down to her food and balled her hands up into fists under the table.

Shmi was about to say something, to chastise her son for his impudence perhaps, but Qui-Gon beat her to the chase.

"I can see there's no fooling you, Anakin." He leaned forward. "We're on our way to Coruscant, the central system in the Republic, on a very important mission."

Anakin's eyes widened. "Coruscant? Wow! How did you end up here in the Outer Rim?" Anakin asked curiously, making Ashlyn look at the Jedi, handmaiden, and Gungan curiously as well. She knew about their ship being damaged, but she hadn't asked them how it had gotten to that state.

"Our ship was damaged, and we're stranded here until we can repair it. Ashlyn offered to help us," Padmé explained.

"I can help too!" the boy announced quickly, anxious to be of service to them. "I can fix anything!"

Qui-Gon smiled. "I believe you can, but first we must acquire the parts we need..."

"Wit no-nutten mula to trade," Jar Jar piped in.

Padmé was looking at Qui-Gon speculatively. "These junk dealers must have a weakness of some kind."

"From the looks of it, the only weakness they would have would be gambling," Ashlyn grunted, looking up at Anakin's mom for a sign of confirmation.

Shmi nodded. "Yes. Everything here revolves around betting on those awful races."

Qui-Gon thought for a moment. "Podracing... Greed can be a powerful ally."

Anakin eyes lit up. Ashlyn's eyes widened in shock as she watched him. She knew exactly what he was thinking, and she was completely against it.

"I've built a racer! It's the fastest ever... There's a big race tomorrow, on Boonta Eve. You could enter my pod," Anakin said.

"No, Anakin," Ashlyn replied firmly.

Shmi sent her a thankful and agreeing look. "Anakin! Watto won't let you..."

"Watto doesn't know I've built it," Anakin said before turning to look at Qui-Gon. "You could make him think it's yours, and get him to let me pilot it for you."

Qui-Gon looked over at Shmi.

"Qui-Gon, don't," Ashlyn warned as she too looked over at Shmi.

Shmi was upset. "I don't want you to race. It's awful. I die every time Watto makes you do it.'

"But Mom, I love it. The prize money would more than pay for the parts they need," Anakin insisted.

"Anakin!" Shmi scolded.

"Your mother's right. Is there anyone friendly to the Republic who might help us?" Qui-Gon said.

Shmi shook her head no.

"Mom... you said the biggest problem in the universe is nobody helps each other..."

Shmi sighed heavily.

"I'm sure Qui-Gon doesn't want to put your son in danger. We'll find some other way..." Padmé said, trying to reassure Shmi.

Shmi hesitated. "No, there is no other way... I may not like it, but... he can help you... he was meant to help you."

After that was settled, they continued chatting, mostly asking Ashlyn about herself, though thankfully, Anakin knew she still didn't feel ready to answer any of them, so he changed the questions and asked her about her world which she animatedly answered before the questions were averted to the other guests.

"So there are more Jedi here than just you?" Shmi asked Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon and Ashlyn looked at each other, unsure whether to tell her. After a second, Ashlyn shrugged and nodded. They had no reason to tell their secrets; they obviously had no affiliation with the Separatists. They really had nothing to lose at the time.

"Yes, Shmi. There are three of us Jedi." Ashlyn gave him a questioning look, which he ignored. "Myself, my Padawan learner, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Ashlyn."

"Say what, now? Since when was I a Jedi? Last time I checked I only knew how to fight because of the Karate and Taekwondo classes I had taken since I was young and I could somehow do magic tricks I have no control over," Ashlyn said.

"It was the―"

"Yeah, yeah, the Force, whatever. I still think it was a magic trick, what I did. I mean how many times do you cross paths with a girl who can propel a force field out of her entire body that would throw many attackers ten feet away when barely conscious?"

Qui-Gon was about to say something, but she shook her head and stood up.

"Never mind, if you'll excuse me, I will retire," she mumbled, slightly shuddering at her somewhat proper way of excusing herself. Padmé was already rubbing off on her.

She was in for a shock when she stepped outside. The sand flying towards her from the still raging sandstorm crashed against an invisible force a few ten feet away. She tilted her head to the side curiously. Extending her arms forward, she frowned, concentrating, trying to extend the force field around the whole house. A minute passed, and the sand was now crashing fifteen feet away from her and the house. She smiled then frowned when she started swaying a bit. She stumbled her way back inside and collapsed a  few feet away from the couch in their living room.


	4. Chapter Four

The first thing to hit her eardrums were faint voices. They were a blurry kind of buzzing noise, like when you get out a swimming pool, and there is water in your ears. Her head was swimming as she tried as hard as she could to open her eyes. After a while, Ashlyn felt someone grab her hand and shake her slightly; then she steadily fluttered her eyes open. There, barely visible, were the Jedi, the Naboo handmaiden, the Gungan, the two Tatooine slaves, and the two droids.

When they saw her eyes open they let out a synchronized sigh of relief, Threepio mumbling things like _'Oh, how relieving!'_ and _'We thought we had lost you'_ or _'We're so glad_ _you're finally awake and safe, Miss'_ while Artoo was whistling, agreeing with him.

Suddenly, she started to feel pain in her head. Ashlyn groaned and instantly clutched her head between her hands that were now shaking.

"Ashlyn, what's wrong?" Padmé asked, concern coating her face.

She wanted to answer, but she couldn't. The pain was just too much. Then, her thoughts floated back to an image. It was her family, how it used to be before it turned into a nightmare. Her family was happy and smiling, and she was with them. There was a writing at the bottom, but she didn't get time to read it. The more she thought about it, the more the pain in her head increased.

"Get away from her immediately," Shmi instructed.

They all backed away, a look of worry spread across their faces. Shmi came over and touched Ashlyn's burning forehead with a cold, wet cloth. It calmed her down a bit and, soon, the pain in her head started diminishing.

"Better?" she asked, keeping the cloth against my forehead. 

Ashlyn nodded, taking the cloth from her while she went to go get something else.

"Ashlyn, are you alright?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Um... yeah... I think," she said awkwardly. Ashlyn bit her lip as she looked up at them. "What happened?"

Qui-Gon furrowed his brows. "I'm not sure. You left, and for a moment, the sandstorm started calming down but then when you came back in you just collapsed... did you do that?" he asked, referring to the sandstorm.

Ashlyn pursed her lips. "I think so. I remembered how when I got here and fought those dugs, I sort of created a force field or something that threw them off me," she started as Shmi made her way back to them and handed Ashlyn a cup of water.

"Thank you," she said, before bringing the cup to her lips and taking a long sip. She gave the cup back to Shmi then resumed her tale. "The force field was somehow still around me, making the sand stop ten feet away from me. I tried to expand it to stop the sand from hitting the house, but then I got tired... I think the effort wore me out."

They were all silent for a moment before the Jedi Master spoke up. "Probably. I suggest you not to worry about that for now and rest. We will talk about this back at the ship, alright?"

Ashlyn nodded then both her and Padmé went to Anakin's room, where they spent the night, though even exhausted, Ashlyn could not sleep.

The next morning, people filled the streets as a bantha, and a few landspeeders went by to clean up the mess and rebuild their food stalls. Qui-Gon, Ashlyn, Padmé and Jar Jar were walking toward Watto's shop, Artoo rolling behind them.

Ashlyn stopped Qui-Gon as he was about to enter the shop.

"Are you sure about this?" Ashlyn asked, hesitation clear in her grayish, hazelnut eyes, whereas doubt was clearly mirrored in Padmé's brown orbs. "Trusting our fate to a boy we hardly know." 

It wasn't that Ashlyn didn't trust Anakin because, she did, and more than she should. But she did not want the nine-year-old to put his life on the line because of them.

Padmé nodded, sharing Ashlyn's doubt and concern. "The Queen will not approve."

Qui-Gon met her gaze squarely. "The Queen does not need to know."

Ashlyn frowned. "Well, I don't approve."

Padmé's eyes blazed defiantly at him. "Neither do I," she said. 

Qui-Gon gave her a questioning look, then turned away wordlessly and started into the shop. Inside the salvage shop, he found Watto and Anakin engaged in a heated discussion, the Toydarian hovering centimeters from the boy's face, blue wings a blur of motion, snout curled inward as he gestured sharply and purposely with both hands.

" _Patta go bolla!_ " he shouted in Huttese, chubby body jerking with the force of his words.

The boy blinked, but held his ground. " _No batta!_ "

" _Peedunkel!_ " Watto flitted backward and forward, up and down, everything moving at once.

" _Banyo, banyo!_ " Anakin shouted.

Qui-Gon moved out of the shadowed entry and into the light where they could see him clearly. Watto turned away from Anakin at once, toothy mouth working, and flew into Qui-Gon's face in a frenzy of ill-concealed excitement.

"The boy tells me you wanta sponsor him in a race. How can you do this? Not on Republic credits, I think, huh." Watto laughed.

"My ship will be the entry fee," the Jedi replied bluntly.

He reached beneath his poncho and brought out a tiny holo-projector. Clicking on the power source, he projected a hologram of the Queen's transport into the air in front of Watto. The Toydarian flitted closer, studying the projection carefully.

"Not bad. Not bad." The wrinkled blue proboscis bobbed. "A Nubian."

"It's in good order, except for the parts we need." Qui-Gon gave him another moment, then flicked off the holo-projector and tucked it back beneath his poncho.

"... what would the boy ride? He smashed up my Pod in the last race. It will take some time to fix it," Watto said.

Anakin was embarrassed, but stepped forward and said, "Awe... it wasn't my fault really... Sebulba flashed me with his vents. I actually saved the Pod... mostly."

Watto laughed harshly. "That you did, huh. The boy is good, no doubts there huh."

"I have acquired a Pod in a game of chance," Qui-Gon interrupted smoothly, drawing the other's attention back to him. "The fastest ever built."

He did not look at Anakin, but he imagined the expression on the boy's face.

"I hope you didn't kill anyone I know for it!" Watto snapped. He burst into a new round of laughter before bringing himself under control again. "So, you supply the Pod and the entry fee; I supply the boy. We split the winnings fifty-fifty, I think."

"If it's going to be fifty-fifty, I suggest you front the cash for the entry. If we win, you keep all the winnings, minus the cost of the parts I need... If we lose, you keep my ship."

Watto thought about this as Anakin tried not to be nervous.

"Either way, you win," Qui-Gon added.

"Deal!"

With that, the Jedi left the shop.

Obi-Wan stood in the lounge of the Naboo spacecraft, speaking into his comlink. Qui-Gon was on the back porch of the hovel, Ashlyn standing beside him emotionlessly.

"What if this plan fails, Master? We could be stuck here for a long time," Obi-Wan asked.

"Well, it's too dangerous to call for help now. A ship without a power supply isn't gonna get us anywhere, and... there is something about this boy..."

Qui-Gon put the comlink away as Shmi came onto the porch. Anakin, Padmé, Jar Jar, and Artoo were working on the engines of the Podracer in the courtyard below. Ashlyn had helped them a while earlier and gave them a few tips to make it better but, after a while, she left because she felt this was wrong. They shouldn't be risking the life of a little boy just to gain parts for a ship. It's wrong.

"You should be proud of your son. He gives without any thought of reward," said the Jedi Master.

Shmi bit her lip. "He knows nothing of greed. He has..."

"Special powers," Qui-Gon finished.

Shmi nodded. "Yes..."

"He can see things before they happen. That's why he appears to have such quick reflexes. It is a Jedi trait."

"He deserves better than a slave's life," Shmi said.

"Had he been born in the Republic, we would have identified him early. The Force is unusually strong with him, that much is clear. Who is his father?" Qui-Gon asked, making Ashlyn look at the boy's mother curiously.

Shmi looked down at her hands before looking over at her son from the porch with a sad look on her face. "There was no father. I carried him; I gave birth, I raised him... I can't explain what happened."

Qui-Gon nodded while Ashlyn remained silent. How is it possible not to have a father? That's just it. It's not possible. The freakin' sperm and the ovule are what make the fetus, which then becomes the baby— the fetus can't just appear like that... unless he's the Jesus from Star Wars... 

Sighing in frustration, Ashlyn ran a hand through her hair.

"Can you help him?" she heard Shmi ask.

"I don't know," Qui-Gon replied. "I didn't actually come here to free slaves."

Kitster, Seek— a red-headed boy of ten, Amee— a girl of nine, a six-year-old girl, and Wald― a six-year-old Rodian joined Anakin, Jar Jar, Artoo, and Padmé who were securing some wiring.

Artoo whistled and hooted in greeting.

"Wow, a real Astro Droid... how'd you get so lucky?" Kitster asked.

"This isn't the half of it. I'm entered in the Boonta Race tomorrow!" Anakin replied excitedly.

"What? With this?"

" _Ona joka, Annie,_ " said Wald. (You are such a joker, Annie.)

"You've been working on that thing for years," Amee piped in.

"It's never gonna run," another little girl said.

"Come on, let's go and play ball," Seek said. "Keep racing, Annie; you're gonna be bug squash."

Seek, Wald, Amee and the little girl took off, laughing. Jar Jar was fiddling with one of the energy binder plates.

"Hey! Jar Jar! Keep away from those energy binders... If your hand gets caught in that beam, it will go numb for hours," Anakin called out to him.

Jar Jar dropped the tool he had, bent down to pick it up and came right up into the energy binders. It made a little electronic pop, zapped him in the mouth and he jumped back. Jar Jar tried to say something, but his mouth was numb, and his words were garbled, making Ashlyn's frustration slightly fade and a small smile overlaps her frown as she went over to Qui-Gon.

"Ouch, muy tonge is fat. Muy togne. Oucho," the Gungan complained. Jar Jar saw that a tool was stuck in the engine and reached in to get it but got his hand caught instead. "Hey! Ou-oh. Ow, hey, I'm stuck."

"You know, I find that Jar Jar creature very... odd," Threepio commented. Artoo twittered a response.

"You don't even know if this thing's gonna run," Kitster said.

Anakin jumped into the little capsule behind the two giant engines. "It will," he said confidently as Ashlyn and Qui-Gon approached the group.

"I guess it's time we found out. Here use this power charge," the Jedi Master said, giving Anakin a small battery.

Anakin nodded, grateful, before turning to his friend. "Come on Kitster. Let's move away."

"Mm... my mout," Jar Jar panicked. "I'm stuck. Hep I'm s.."

Ashlyn and Padmé saw Jar Jar was in trouble and both walked over to help him.

"Muy tonge is fat..." Jar Jar said.

Artoo beeped something at his fellow droid. "You're quite right," Threepio said. "He's very odd indeed."

"Ow, th... thank yous," he said, smiling sheepishly at Ashlyn, who returned the smile with a small one of her own.

Jar Jar looked at Anakin and gave him the thumbs-up before walking away.

Anakin flipped a switch, and the engines ignited with a roar. Everyone looked at each other with a smile.

"It's working! It's working!" Anakin shouted in joy.

Shmi, watching from the porch, smiled sadly.

That night, Anakin sat on the balcony rail of his hovel as Qui-Gon tended to a cut. Ashlyn stood in the shadows, leaning against the wall as she watched the Jedi with her eyebrows furrowed. She had her suspicions about what he was doing while tending the child's wound, but she was not sure. The boy, who still hadn't felt the presence of the teenage girl, lent back to look at the vast blanket of stars in the sky, fidgeting zealously.

"Stay still, Annie. Let me clean this cut."

"There are so many! Do they all have a system of planets?" Anakin asked enthusiastically, making Ashlyn chuckle silently from her spot, leaning her head against the wall and closing her eyes.

Qui-Gon smiled. "Most of them."

"Has anyone been to them all?"

Qui-Gon laughed. "Not likely."

Anakin smiled dreamily. "I want to be the first one to see them all... Ouch!"

Qui-Gon wiped a patch of blood off Anakin's arm. "There we are, good as new..." He then scraped Anakin's blood onto a comlink chip.

Anakin observed him curiously. "What are you doing?"

"Checking your blood for infections," Qui-Gon replied quietly. "You have a big day tomorrow. I suggest you go rest soon. Goodnight." With that said, the Jedi stepped into the hovel, leaving the boy outside to stare at the sky again.

It was silent for a moment before a soft voice spoke from behind him. "How's your cut?"

Anakin slightly jumped in surprise, not expecting anyone else to be there. He spun around and found himself grinning when he saw the girl he viewed as an angel standing there.

"It's barely anything, nothing to worry about," he said, though it was a lie. Just like his daily injuries, this one hurt a lot, but at least it was bearable.

Ashlyn sent him a small smile as she walked up beside him and lent forward, placing her arms against the balcony rail. "Are you nervous for tomorrow?"

"No," he said quickly, earning himself a raised eyebrow. He sighed. "Okay, I am."

Ashlyn chuckled. "You should be. It's only natural."

Anakin shook his head stubbornly. "But it's a good kind of nerves," he interjected, not wanting to look so weak in front of her.

"I'm sure it is," Ashlyn said with a smile.

"It is!" Anakin exclaimed, making Ashlyn laugh and ruffle his dark blond hair before they both looked back up at the sky again. A comfortable silence lingered in the air for a moment.

"I'm gonna do it, ya know."

Ashlyn sent him a sideways glance. "Do what?" she asked, amused.

"I'm gonna fly to all of them, or as many as I can get to."

Ashlyn smiled again. "I hope you get to do so, I really do," she said quietly, sighing as her eyes stared longingly at the stars in the sky. It had been so long since she'd seen any of this clearly. The last time was when Bobbie was still around, and that was a long time ago. "I wish I'd get to as well, but I'll probably be stuck on Coruscant, or something close to that."

Anakin was silent for a moment before his face brightened. "You could come along! I'd need someone to keep me company!" he smiled, causing Ashlyn to do so as well as she chuckled and ruffled his hair again.

They were silent for a moment before Ashlyn heard the boy mumble, "And then we can get married."

Ashlyn sighed. This boy was really not going to let that go, was he? She looked down at him, only to find him already staring at her.

"Annie..."

His gaze was intense as he fully faced her. "I know, I know. But won't always be a child," he said quietly.

Ashlyn sighed, then chuckled, shaking her head in slight disbelief. She had never had a kid be so infatuated in such a way with her.

"C'mon, kid. You got a long day ahead of ya, tomorrow," she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder and nodding her head toward the door. It was then that Anakin finally realized how tired he really was. Ashlyn chuckled and turned her back to him, slightly bending down enough for his reach. "Hop on."

Anakin grinned tiredly and hopped onto her back, lightly wrapping his arms around her neck as she carried him into the hovel so they could all finally sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Night blanketed the vast cityscape of Coruscant, cloaking the endless horizon of gleaming spires in deep velvet layers. Lights blazed from windows, bright pinpricks against the black. 

Long ago, the city had consumed the planet with its bulk, and now there was only the city, the center of the galaxy, the heartbeat of the Republic's rule.

A rule that some were intending to end once and for all. A rule that some despised.

The Sith Lord stood high on a balcony, overlooking Coruscant, his concealing black robes making him appear as if he were a creature produced by the night. He stood facing the city, his eyes directed at its lights, at the faint movement of its air traffic, disinterested in his apprentice, Darth Maul, who waited to one side. 

After a moment passed, the Sith Lord turned to face his newcomers, though not before sending his apprentice away.

Jaw clenched, the brunette tried hard to concentrate on the calming heat emitting from her comrade as they both stood in front of the black form of the man, staring up at him with equally steely eyes.

"Well, this turn of events is rather... unexpected," said the dark figure standing highly before them.

It was an old man, his face hooded under his large black cloak, though, even so, she knew exactly who he was. She knew exactly what he looked like, or at least from what she'd read and seen in films. Afar, he would've looked simply pale and wizened with age, but up close as she was... the view wasn't exactly pleasant.

His orbs were a luminous, sulfuric yellow― calm, but filled with seemingly endless yet subtle anger. There was no pigmentation in his skin, it was pale and mottled, the veins under the dermis of his face increasingly and disgustingly visible. The bits of hair that were visible from under his hood were as white as a horse can be.

Of course, she did not expect any less. After all, it was Darth Sidious who was standing before her, though that was not the only reason. She knew that was a simple... side-effect of being a wielder of the Dark Side of the Force. She remembered reading it all online; back in her world, where she used to obsess over this fictional universe, where she used to spend hours every day telling her best friend about it.

Her best friend.

Was she still alive? Did she manage to get away, or did she suffer the same fate as her and the boy standing right beside her?

"We would like you to lead us, My Lord," said the boy, pulling her out of her thoughts. "We would like to follow your ways."

The brunette's head snapped up in his direction and, for a moment, all she could do is stare at him in shock and disbelief. She turned to look at the dark figure she knew all too well and gave him a hard look.

"If you would just excuse us...  _sir_ , for a moment. I would like to discuss a matter with my... comrade," she said. When the figure did not reply, she took that as a 'yes' and pulled the boy away, rolling her eyes when he ran a hand through his dark brown hair.

Once they were at a good distance from him, she looked at the boy and glared. "What the hell are you thinking?!" she hissed. "Do you know _what_ he is?"

The boy rolled his eyes and sighed, glancing over at the figure who was staring once more out at the city. "I know, I know he's a stupid Sith from your stupid Sci-Fi books and movies you obsess over..."

She was offended. "I do not..." She paused for a moment, then sighed, realizing how right he was about that. "Okay, maybe I do obsess about it a bit." He raised an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes. "Okay, maybe a lot―"

"― a hell lot―"

"― but that's not the point," she snapped at him. "You're asking to join him. To join the evillist of all evil in the whole freakin' story! There _will_ be consequences."

"I know, but... don't you feel it?"

She looked at him, perplexed. "Feel what? The evil radiating out of him? Yes!"

The boy groaned. "No! The― Charlie― Bobbie. _Ashlyn_!"

She frowned, confused. "What about Ash― _oh_!"

"Yeah." He nodded in agreement.

"Then... was that why...?" He nodded again. "You do realize it's still a bad idea, right?"

He sighed. "I know. I don't like it much either... I don't like it at all but just think about it for a moment. The Sith always seem to know what's going on. I don't know how, but they always end up knowing it all. If we join them, or at least pretend to be on their side, we can use the knowledge we acquire to find _them_."

"Consequences," the girl reminded him.

He groaned. "I know, you don't need to remind me."

She frowned. "I still think it's a bad idea."

"You think I don't?" he snapped. "Look, it's either we do that, or we let them know we're Sith haters and get ourselves killed. _Again_."

"Either way, I don't like it, _Ry_. In the end, it'll be a 'kill, be killed or kill yourself,' and honestly, I root for neither, dude."

Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. "I know, _Ena_ , but it's our only option for survival, right now." He gave her a small smile. "We're doing it for Charlie, Bobbie..."

"And Ashlyn," they both finished at the same time.

The brunette sighed in defeat and nodded. "Fine. But I still think it's―"

"― a bad idea, I know."

"The ending won't be pretty."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

"Or we can just burn the one we're already on and be done with it," she muttered.

"Ena..." he said, reproachfully.

"I know, I know." She rolled her eyes, then motioned him forward. "Lead the way, cousin."

"... My Lord," said the young boy, suppressing a shudder at the term he used, as the pair approached the dark figure. Once again, the latter turned to look at them with steely eyes, the expression mirrored on their own.

He said, "Yes?"

"I do not go back on my word," the boy started. "We wish to have a voice to lead us down the rightful path."

The figure was silent for a moment. "And you believe I am that voice?"

The girl took a deep breath before answering this time, continuing her cousin's subtle charade. "We do not know what to believe in. That is why we seek guidance. Of any." 

For a moment, she was disgusted by her own words, she felt ashamed, because, at that moment, for some reason, she actually believed what she was saying, even if it was only a mask she was putting on, her words having a different meaning than what she was actually saying. She'd had guidance before. Maybe not from her parents, even less aunts or uncles or older siblings, but she'd had it. She'd had it in her cousin, who was right beside her. In her best friend. In her best friend's older brother. She had it. But why was she suddenly feeling different when she said the words she said merely seconds ago?

The Sith looked at them for a moment, then said, "Would you be willing to join me? Become my apprentices?"

A wave of tingling started at the base of the boy's skull and spread over his whole body in a slow-motion shock-wave.

He wanted to say no. He wanted to hesitate, but he didn't. "Yes," he said, and he could only wonder why after he did so.

The girl, on the other hand, didn't speak without hesitation. She had read the books, seen the movies, read the information posted on various websites in the internet; she had never liked the ways of the Sith― heck! No one liked the Sith, in her world, as far as she knew. They weren't praised, that's for certain. But here she was, trapped between two paths that would only get her killed sooner or later. She just couldn't choose.

Heart hammering, her firm posture faltered as she shook her head, looking slightly vulnerable. "I-I can't."

The dark figure stared at her, feeling the energy surging from her. She was something. So was the boy; he wanted them by his side. He wanted them to discover the power he had managed to master throughout his life. 

"Of course you can," he replied calmly.

The girl shook her head and found that the rest of her threatened to begin shaking as well. "I _can't_. I would be betraying my friends―"

The Sith snorted. "What friends?" 

The girl could find no answer. The boy tensed, feeling the doubt she was feeling; he felt that way, too, along with regret. He felt the wrong in him accepting without hesitation.

Her face hardened. "The Jedi want you dead."

The dark figure chuckled darkly. "So they do. But do you?"

 _Yes_ , she wanted to say, but she found herself falling into silence. Why was she hesitating so much? Why was she falling into such temptations― this was something she always despised.

"You must learn to cast off the fiddling restraints that the Jedi place upon one's power," he said. "Magdalena, Zackary, it's time." They tensed. He knew their names. "I need you to help me restore order to the galaxy."

The brunette didn't respond.

The Sith said, "Join me. Pledge yourself to the Sith. Become my apprentices."

She shook her head. "I-I can't."

"Of course you can. You wouldn't want your cousin to be in this alone, now, would you?"

She shook her head again; he was taunting her. This time, she did start shaking. "I won't betray my friends―"

He chuckled. " _What friends?_ " he repeated.

Again, neither could find an answer.

"And do you truly believe that would be treason?" The Sith lord gracefully waved a hand, using the Force to bring a chair over to him, on which he seated himself, hands folded in his lap, the way a man would when offering fatherly advice; the misshapen mask of his face made the familiarity of his posture into something horrible. "Do you think doing nothing will end such, rather than killing one being? The traitors are all out there. Do you honestly think the Jedi will ever stop until I am dead?"

Zackary stared at his hands. The right one, which had around its wrist the black braided bracelet his girlfriend had made and given to him, was shaking. He hid it behind him. Magdalena looked down at her feet and frowned.

"It's them or me. Or perhaps I should put it more plainly: It's them or... _Ashlyn_."

Both their heads snapped up at the mentioning of the latter. They glanced over at each other and shared a look, thinking over what Zackary had said earlier.

_"...The Sith always seem to know what's going on. I don't know how, but they always end up knowing it all..."_

Indeed they do.

Zackary made his hands into a fists. Magdalena clenched her jaw.

"It's just― it's not... easy―"

The Sith offered an appalling smile. "There is a place within you, child― _both_  of you. A place as briskly clean as ice on a mountaintop, cool and remote. Find that high place, and look down within yourselves; breathe that clean, icy air as you both regard your darkest, saddest― your strongest feelings. Do not deny them; observe them. Take your horror in your hands and look at it. Examine it. Come to know it as only you can, for it is yours, and it is precious."

As the shadow before them spoke, its words became true. From a remote, frozen distance that was at the same time more extravagantly, hotly intimate than they could have ever dreamed, Zackary handled his emotions. Magdalena had a harder time to do so, but she still managed. They dissected them. They reassembled them and pulled them apart again. They still felt them― if anything, they burned hotter than before, but they no longer had the power to cloud their minds.

"You have both found it, my children."

 _Children_. It felt weird to be called so, yet pleasant. Heartwarming, despite it coming from a being who wields evil as easy as breathing. 

"I can feel you there," the Sith continued. "That cold distance― that mountaintop within yourselves― that is the first key to the power of the Sith."

The boy and girl both opened their eyes and turned their gaze fully upon the grotesque features of the Sith lord.

They didn't even blink.

As they looked upon that mask of corruption, the revulsion the felt was real, and it was powerful, and it was― _Interesting_.

Zackary lifted his hand, the bracelet no longer around his wrist as he cupped it, staring at it in the palm of his hand as though he held there the fear that had haunted his dreams for his whole life. Magdalena stared herself down, her once light brown hair turned black with a few red streak. Both, her and her cousin's attire had changed. [His once tan skin had become paler and created a large contrast against the black leather long coat, leather pants and boots he now wore.](https://urstyle.com/styles/1658467) The same could be said for herself. Her skin that had always been extremely pale in comparison to the rest of her family had become even paler; with her now black hair, the nickname Snow White fit her perfectly as her skin was white as snow, her hair black as coal and her lips naturally red as blood. The beauty she often subtled down, much like her best friend, became emphasized― smooth skin, perfectly fit feminine curves in all the right places shown off by the [tight black leather jacket that hugged her torso perfectly yet was nowhere near uncomfortable, and the tight black pants that hugged their way down from her waist, past her thighs and down her averagely long legs, the hems hiding inside a pair of black boots.](https://urstyle.com/styles/1658465) It was unbeknownst to her that her crystal blue eyes had begun to darken, a black hue beginning to surround its pupils. Not even Zackary knew his own were changing as well, a hazel tint crowning his blue-gray eyes, as both he and Magdalena were lost in their visible physical change.

It was sudden and unexpected, and fear instantly overtook them, yet they embraced it.

On the mountain peak within themselves, they weighed the lives of the people they sought against the Jedi. 

It was no contest.

"Yes," the boy repeated, though this time, the girl said so as well.

"Yes to what, my children?"

"Yes, we want your knowledge."

"Good. Good!"

"We want your power. We want the power to stop death."

"That power only my Master truly achieved, but together we will find it. The Force is strong with you, my children. You can both do anything."

"The Jedi betray you," Zackary started.

"The Jedi betray both of us," Magdalena finished.

"As you say. Are you ready?"

"We are," they said, and, though mildly, they meant it. "We give ourselves to you. We pledge ourselves to the ways of the Sith. Take us as your apprentices. Teach us. Lead us. Be our Master."

The Sith raised the hood of his robe and draped it to shadow the ruin of his face.

"Kneel before me, Magdalena and Zackary Rosales."

Both dropped to one knee and lowered their heads.

"It is your will to join your destiny forever with the Order of the Sith Lords?"

There was no hesitation. "Yes."

The Sith laid a pale hand on each of their brows. "Then it is done. You both are now one with the Order of the Dark Lords of the Sith. From this day forward, the truth of you, my apprentices, now and forevermore, will be Lady Fackel and Darth..." A pause; a questioning in the Force― an answer, dark as the gap between galaxies― he heard Sidious say it: his new name.

 _Werden_.

A pair of syllables that meant him.

 _Werden_ , he said to himself. _Werden_.

The once blonde-brunette took a deep breath, then exhaled. _Lady Fackel_ , she thought. _Lady Fackel... that is who I am now, whether I like it or not._

And their eyes were changed, though not into the sulfuric yellow that tinted their new mentor's eyes. No.

Their eyes were gold.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Midnight approached. Anakin Skywalker, unable to sleep, had slipped out of his bed and gone down into the backyard to complete a final check of the racer, of its controls, its wiring, its relays, its power source-everything he could think of. Now he stood staring at it, trying to determine what he might have missed, what he might have overlooked. He could afford no mistakes. He must make certain he had done all that he could.

So that he would win tomorrow's race.

Because he must.

He must.

He watched Artoo scuttle around the racer, applying paint in broad strokes to its polished metal body, adding a light projecting from a receptacle mounted over his visual sensors and a steady stream of advice from See-Threepio. The boy had activated the latter earlier on the advice of Ashlyn. _Many hands make light work_ , she had intoned solemnly, then grinned. See-Threepio wasn't much with his hands, but his vocoder was certainly tireless. In any case, Artoo seemed to like having him around, exchanging beeps and chirps with his protocol counterpart as he scuttled about the racer. The little astromech droid worked tirelessly, cheerfully, and willingly. Nothing perturbed him. Anakin envied him. Droids were either well put together or they weren't. Unlike humans, they didn't respond to weariness or disappointment or fear...

He chased the thought away quickly and looked up at the starry sky. After a moment, he sat down, his back against a crate of old parts, his goggles and racing helmet at his side. Idly, he fingered the japor carving in his pocket, the one he was working on for Ashlyn. His thoughts drifted. He couldn't explain it exactly, but he knew that tomorrow would change his life. That strange ability to see what others did not, that sometimes gave him insights into what would happen, told him so. His future was coming upon him in a rush, he sensed. It was closing fast, giving him no time to consider, ascending with the certainty of a sunrise.

What would it bring him? The question teased at the edges of his consciousness, refusing to show itself. Change, but in what form? Qui-Gon and his companions were the bringers of that change, but he did not think even the Jedi Knight knew for certain what the end result would be. Maybe the freedom he had dreamed about for himself and his mother, he thought hopefully. Maybe an escape to a new life for both of them. Anything was possible if he won the Boonta. Anything at all. That thought was still foremost in his cluttered, weary mind when his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

Anakin dreamed that night, and in his dream he was of a different, but indeterminate age. He was young still, though not so young as now, but old, too. He was cut from stone, and his thoughts were emblazoned with a vision so frightening he could not bring himself to consider it fully, only to leave it just out of reach, simmering over a fire of ambition and hope. He was in a different place and time, in a world he did not recognize, in a landscape he had never seen. It was vague and shadowy in his dream, all flat and rugged at once, changing with the swiftness of a mirage born out of Tatooine's desert flats.

It felt like only minutes had passed when the twin suns rose.

Artoo was busy painting the racing pod just as Ashlyn and Padmé passed by him.

Anakin was asleep.

The dream shimmered, and voices reached out to him, soft and distant. He turned toward them, away from a wave of dark movement that suddenly appeared before him, away from the sleep that gave his dream life.

"I hope you're about finished," Ashlyn said.

Artoo whistled a positive reply, causing the American girl to smile. Padmé saw Kitster riding toward them on an Eopie, a strange camel-like creature, and elbowed Ashlyn gently on the side to get her attention. Once she had it, she nodded toward the boy. He was leading a second Eopie behind him.

Ashlyn and Padmé shared a curious look before going over to Anakin. He looked very vulnerable as he slept. Ashlyn watched him, eyes soft as they fell upon him.

But Ashlyn was at the head of the dark wave of his dream, and the wave was an army, marching toward him...

Artoo whistled and beeped, and Threepio chimed in with hasty assurances, saying everything was done, all was in readiness, and he stirred again. A hand touched his cheek, brushing it softly, and the dream faded and was gone. Anakin blinked awake, rubbing at his eyes, yawning and turning over on his side. He was no longer stretched out by the parts crate where he had fallen asleep the night before, but was back in his own bed.

The hand lifted away from his cheek, and Anakin stared up at Ashlyn, at a face he found so beautiful it brought a tightness to his throat. Yet he stared at her in confusion, for she had been the central figure in his dream, different from now, older, sadder... and something more.

"You were in my dream..." he said. "You were leading a huge army into battle."

Ashlyn felt herself stiffen slightly, though her gaze upon the boy was that of wonder.

_"Who the heck is Andemala?"_

_Lena rolled her eyes. "It's Amidala. Padmé Amidala... or Padmé Naberrie, though it was mostly the first one I told you."_

_"Okay... so?"_

_"Ashlyn!" Lena whined. "Did you not hear a word I said?"_

_Ashlyn gave her a sheepish look. "Had my earbuds on. Sorry. I was listening to Plato's 'The Republic'. The audiobook version."_

_Lena groaned. "Seriously, stop doing that to me." She grabbed her best friend's earphones and stuffed them into the pocket of her hoodie. She looked up at Ashlyn, who raised an eyebrow at her, and grinned triumphantly. "Now, let me start over."_

_She took a deep breath and started. "_ _Padmé_ _Amidala was the democratically elected Queen of Naboo before representing the Chommell sector as a Senator in the Galactic Senate. As Queen of Naboo, Amidala fought bravely to liberate her people during the Trade Federation's invasion, thus becoming one of the most respected political figures in the galaxy."_

Ashlyn was confused now. Padmé was a queen? Never mind that― Lena had said Padmé was the one to lead whatever invasion or war. But the queen sent Padmé to give her a feedback on what this planet had― must be a decoy. That means that whatever this Trade Federation invasion is, it'll happen soon. The glitch is that Lena had clearly said that the fourteen year-old beside her was going to lead it.

Anakin said it was going to be Ashlyn. That made Ashlyn's heart pound hard against her chest. It wasn't that she'd rather have Padmé do it. She's only fourteen! She shouldn't have to. But she doesn't want to have to do that either; she has fought enough in her life.

Ashlyn swallowed hard, but mustered up a small smile all the same. "I hope not; I hate fighting."

Seeing Ashlyn's discomfort on the subject, Padmé intervened quickly. "Your mother wants you to get up. We have to leave soon."

Anakin climbed to his feet, fully awake. He walked to the back door and stood looking out at the anthill complex of the slave quarters, at the bustle of slaves going about their daily work, at the clear, bright early morning sky that promised good weather for the Boonta Eve race. The Podracer hung level before him on its antigrav lifts, freshly painted and gleaming in the new day's sunlight. Artoo bustled about with a brush and can of paint, completing the final detailing of the craft. Threepio, still missing most of his outer skin, his working parts clearly visible, followed along, pointing out missed patches, giving unsolicited opinions and bits of advice.

The sharp wheeze of an Eopie brought him around to find Kitster riding toward them on the first of two of the beasts he had commandeered to help haul the Podracer to the arena. Kitster's dark face was aglow with expectation, and he waved eagerly at Anakin as he approached.

"Hook 'em up, Kitster." He then turned to Ashlyn. "I won't be long. Where's Qui-Gon?"

"He and Jar Jar left already. They're with Watto at the arena," Padmé replied.

Ashlyn gave him a small smile. "Padmé will help you. I will go join them," she said before ruffling his hair. "Good luck, kid."

Anakin was a bit disappointed that she was leaving, but he smiled all the same and nodded. "Okay, thanks."

And with that, Ashlyn left.


	5. Chapter Five

The sinister-looking Sith spacecraft landed on top of a desert mesa at dusk, scattering a herd of banthas. Darth Maul walked to the edge of the mesa and studied the landscape with a pair of electro-binoculars. He picked out the lights of three different cities in the distance, then pushed buttons on his electronic armband. Six football-sized Probe Droids floated out of the ship and headed off in three different directions toward the cities.

Darth Maul stood on the mesa and watched them through his electro-binoculars, just as his communicator beeped. He pressed the button and waited for the person on the other side to speak.

" _Mission report_ ," said the familiarly soft, monotonous voice emitting from the other end of the line.

"Mission is being tended to," he replied.

" _Anything new so far?_ "

"I've just sent out the droids."

There was pause. " _Alright, alert us when you've found something. Anything._ "

"Noted."

" _Good. Lady Fackel out._ "

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Obi-Wan had been standing in the lounge of the Naboo spacecraft for a long while since morning had come. He'd gone over to a monitor and stared at it for a moment. After a few more minutes, he finally straightened his posture and made his way toward the exit of the ship; his worrisome self had made him feel stuffy and breathless inside.

He was slowly making his way down the opening ramp when he suddenly stopped on his tracks as he looked far ahead at something that had caught his eye. A bright blue light began to shine in the distance as a faint  _ticking_  noise followed resonated along, merely a second later.

"Padawan Kenobi?" Captain Panaka called from inside, making his way toward the young man.

Obi-Wan didn't answer for a moment as he was somewhat mesmerized by it.

"What a strange phenomenon," he murmured.

The colors were starting dance as the ticking noise grew louder and louder yet slower... as if it was almost over.

"Young Jedi, I think it'd be best if we went back inside... we don't know what that is..." But Obi-Wan was no longer listening.

"Padawan Kenobi!" Obi-Wan started making his way over to the strange occurrence.

"It's... wondrous..." The light started to get bigger and the ticking noise was now louder than even the Captain's voice.

" _Obi-Wan_ , please..."

Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment, step faltering.

"It's just... this isn't even the Force... yet it's as powerful and wondrous," he whispered, then...

BOOM!

The ticking noise was gone and replaced by a straight monotonous beeping noise as a blast blew their way, throwing both men backward into the air. They both hit the ground, hard on their backs.

Shaken out of his mesmerism, Obi-Wan quickly scrambled onto his feet and went to help the Captain up as well, when something caught both of their eyes. Something was falling from the sky. Something that looked almost like... a body? They watched, puzzled as it hit the ground. Sharing a look, the Captain and the young Jedi ran toward the individual who laid, unmoving, on the sandy floor, many yards away. As they grew closer, they realized it was structured in a masculine way; the body of a teenage boy.

He was about fifteen years old, a bit dirty from the sand he'd fallen on, his clothes were...  _strange_ , like the clothes Ashlyn wore, and he had the look of someone that had just been beaten, though the bruises and cuts on him were quickly fading. As they came to an uncertain stop in front of him, they leant down and took a closer look; he had dirty blond hair, so dark that it seemed to be between blond and brown, his eyes kept fluttering, open then close, though they could still see they were a bright blue. They shared a look, but were suddenly startled when the boy started mumbling names.

"Dad... Claire..." At some point, his mumbling became barely comprehensible, but when he mumbled, "Ashlyn..." they knew they had to take him with them. 

Obi-Wan picked the boy up, threw him over his shoulder and he, along with the Captain, walked back toward the ship, where, once inside, the Captain had a handmaiden bring some healing supplies for the boy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Qui-Gon strolled through the main hangar of the Mos Espa Podracer arena, Ashlyn right by his side, both glancing at the activity about them with seemingly casual interest.

The hangar was a cavernous building that housed Podracers and equipment year round and served as a staging area for vehicles and crews on race days.

"Huh, this place reminds me a bit of that big amphitheater in Rome," Ashlyn mused as she glanced around.

A handful of racers were already in place on the service pads, dozens of aliens who had found their way to Tatooine from every corner of the galaxy crawling all over the Pods and engines as pit bosses and pilots shouted instructions. The clash and shriek of metal on metal. echoed in an earsplitting din through the hangar's vast chamber, forcing conversations to be held at something approaching a shout.

Jar Jar hugged one shoulder of the Jedi Master while Watto buzzed close by the other. The former was his normal fretful, nervous self, eyes rolling on their stalks, head twisting this way and that with such frantic concern it seemed certain it must soon twist off altogether. Watto flew with blatant disregard for everything but his own conversation, which rambled on and on, covering the same points endlessly―

"So it must be understood clearly that our bargain is sealed, Outlander," he repeated for at least the third time in the last ten minutes. His blue-snouted head bobbed with emphasis. "I'll want to see your spaceship the moment the race is over."

He made no bones about the fact that he believed that gaining lawful possession of the Naboo transport was only a matter of time. He had not once since Qui-Gon had found him at the betting booths suggested that things might work out otherwise.  
  
Ashlyn rolled her eyes but kept quiet. The Jedi Master demurred with a shrug. "Patience, my blue friend. You'll have your winnings before the suns set, and my companions and I will be far away from here."  
  
"Not if your ship belongs to me, I think!" Watto snorted, and gave a satisfied laugh. Just as quickly, his sharp eyes fixed on the Jedi. "I warn you, no funny business!"  
  
Qui-Gon kept walking, his gaze directed elsewhere, carefully baiting the hook he had set for the Toydarian.

Ashlyn narrowed her eyes at the ugly little creature. "You don't think Anakin will win?"

Watto flew around in front of them and brought them all to a stop. Wings beating furiously, he motioned to a bright orange racer parked close at hand, its engines modified so that when the energy binders were activated and the engines joined, they formed a distinctive X-shape. 

Sitting to one side of the racer was the Dug who had attacked Jar Jar two days earlier, Sebulba, his wicked eyes fixed on them, his slender limbs drawl up in a vaguely menacing gesture to which Ashlyn simply rolled her eyes. A pair of lithesome Twi'leks worked diligently massaging the Dug's neck and shoulders. The Twi'leks were humanoid aliens from the planet Ryloth; they had pointed teeth, smooth blue skin, and twin tentacles that draped gracefully from their hairless heads down their silken backs. Their red eyes lifted to Qui-Gon momentarily, interest flickering in their depths, then returned quickly to their master.

Watto snorted. "Don't get me wrongo," he announced, shaking his head in an odd cocking motion. "I have great faith in the boy. He's a credit to your species." His snaggle-toothed mouth tightened. "But Sebulba there is going to win, I think."

Qui-Gon pretended to study the Dug carefully. "Why?"

"Because he always wins!" The Toydarian broke into a fit of laughter, consumed by his own cleverness. "I'm betting heavily on Sebulba!"

"I'll take that bet," Qui-Gon said at once. Ashlyn smirked, knowing why Qui-Gon made that instant decision.

Watto stopped laughing instantly, jerking away as if scalded by hot oil. "What?" He shook his head in astonishment. "What do you mean?"

Qui-Gon advanced a step, backing the Toydarian away. "I'll wager my new racing Pod against..." He trailed off thoughtfully, letting Watto hang. "Against, say, the boy and his mother." Watto was aghast.

"A Pod for slaves! I don't think so!" The blue wings were a blur as he flitted this way and that, head cocked. "Well, perhaps. Just one. The mother, maybe. The boy isn't for sale."

Qui-Gon frowned. "The boy is small. He can't be worth much."

Watto shook his head decisively.

"For the fastest Pod ever built?" Ashlyn tried.

Watto shook his head again.

"Both, or no bet." Ashlyn's frown turned into a teasing grin. She knew they almost had him. "You know you wanna bet," she sang.

They were standing near the front entry of the hangar, and the noise of the crew work had lessened. Beyond, the arena stands rose against the desert sky, a vast, curved complex complete with boxes for the Hutts, a race announcer's booth, course monitoring equipment, and food stands. Already the stands were beginning to fill, the population of Mos Espa turning out in full force for the event, shops and stalls closed, the city on holiday. Bright streamers and banners flew, and approaching racers flamed with the reflection of sunlight and polish.

Ashlyn caught sight of Anakin appearing through the crowds and smiled. He was riding an Eopie with Padmé up behind him, towing one of the massive Radon-Ulzer engines. His friend Kitster followed on a second Eopie, towing the other engine. The Eopies were gangly, long-snouted pack animals with tough, leathery skin and short fur particularly well-suited to resisting the Tatooine desert heat. Artoo and Threepio trailed the little procession with the Pod and Shmi. The Jedi Master deliberately turned to watch their approach, drawing Watto's gaze after his own. The Toydarian's eyes glittered at the sight of the boy and the racer.

He looked back at Qui-Gon and gave an anxious snort. "No Pod's worth two slaves... not by a long shot! One slave or nothing!"

Ashlyn frowned again and folded her arms over her chest. "The boy, then."

Watto looked at her, huffed and shook his head. He jerked with the tension his deliberation was generating inside his pudgy blue body. "No, no... " Then abruptly he reached inside his pocket and produced a small cube, which he tossed from one hand to the other as if it were too hot to hold. "We'll let fate decide. Blue, it's the boy. Red, it's the mother."

Watto cast the cube to the hangar floor. As he did, Ashlyn had to fight back a smirk when she saw Qui-Gon make a small, surreptitious gesture with one hand, calling on his Jedi power to produce a small inflection in the Force.

The cube bounced, rolled, settled, blue side facing up. Watto threw up his hands angrily, his eyes turning narrow and sharp.

"You won the toss, outlanders!" he sneered in dismissal. "But you won't win the race, so it makes little difference, I think."

"We'll see," Qui-Gon replied calmly.

Anakin and the others reached them, entering the hangar with the Pod and engines. Watto wheeled away from the two Jedi in a huff, pausing long enough to snap irritably at the boy.

"Better stop your friends' betting," he declared with an angry snort, "or I'll end up owning them, too!"

One of the Eopies sniffed expectantly at him, and he swore at the beast in Huttese with such ferocity that it backed away. His wings beating madly, Watto gave Qui-Gon a withering glance and flew off into the hangar shadows.

"What did he mean by that?" Anakin asked as he slowed the Eopie beside Qui-Gon and Ashlyn, glancing after the retreating Toydarian.

Qui-Gon shrugged. "I'll tell you later. Good morning." He walked over to where Shmi was seated on the Eopie and helped her down.

Artoo beeped something to Threepio. "Oh my! Space travel sounds rather perilous." Artoo emitted a series of beeps. "I can assure you they will never get me onto one of those dreadful starships!"

Kitster pulled to a stop beside Anakin, his face alight with excitement as he looked around. "This is so wizard!" Ashlyn chuckled at that. "I'm sure you'll do it this time, Annie!"

Ashlyn shared a look with Padmé before turning to shift her gaze from one boy to the other. "Do what?" she asked suspiciously.

Kitster beamed. "Finish the race, of course!"

Both girls paled slightly.

"You've never won a race?" Ashlyn asked.

The boy blushed. "Well... not exactly."

Padmé's eyes burned into Anakin. "You've never even  _finished_  a race?" she demanded incredulously.

Anakin gave both girls a sheepish look as they returned an incredulous one of their own.

"Oh, Lord," Ashlyn breathed out, running a hand through her hair.

Anakin's mouth tightened with determination. "But Kitster's right. I will this time."

Qui-Gon took the Eopie's reins in his hand and patted the boy's leg. "Of course, you will," he agreed.

Ashlyn and Padmé just stared at him wordlessly.

In the center of Mos Espa, the crowds were beginning to thin as the population gravitated in increasing numbers toward the Podracer arena, at the edge of the spaceport. Most of the shops and stalls were already closed, and the rest were in the process of doing so. Owners and vendors were completing sales and glancing anxiously in the direction of the traffic's steady flow. Amongst the confusion and bustle, a Sith probe droid slowly floated along, mechanical eye traveling from shop to shop, from face to face, searching.

Over a hundred thousand beings had filled the Podracer arena by mid-day, jamming into the grandstand seats, crowding onto the broad viewing platforms, filling the available space. The arena became a vast sea of color and movement and sound in the emptiness of the surrounding desert. Flags and banners bearing the insignia of the racers and their sponsors waved over the assemblage, signifying favorites and creating impromptu cheering sections. Bands played in support of some racers, and isolated horns and drums beat in wild appreciation for all. Vendors walked the aisles, carrying food and drink from canopied stands below to sell to the crowd. 

Everywhere, excitement and anticipation was building.

Then a roar erupted as the racers began to emerge from the main hangar on the far side of the start line. One by one the Podracers hove into view, some towed by Eopies, some by hand, some by repulsor sled, all part of a long procession of pilots, pit crews, and hangers-on. Standard bearers, each carrying a flag that identified the pilot and sponsor, marched along, forming a colorful line in front of the assembly of Podracers. Overhead, the twin suns of Tatooine shone down with a bright, hungry glare.

Slithering into the cooled interior of the box, two Rutts oozed their way along the flooring to their designated places amid the bright silks that draped the rough stone. Jabba the Hutt came foremost, proceeding directly to the arched overlook where he could be seen by the people of Mos Espa. Lifting his pudgy arm in greeting, he basked in the crowd's appreciative roar. Gardulla, his female friend, muttered her approval, nodding her neckless head on the end of a thick, shapeless body, slitted eyes glittering. A coterie of humans and aliens filed in behind the two Rutts, guests of Mos Espa's rulers on race day, a coveted designation. A line of slave girls of varying species came last, chained together, there for the amusement of those who had chosen freely to attend. Below, the Podracer pilots formed a line facing the royal box and on command bowed deeply in recognition of and to pay homage to their benefactor.

" _Chowbaso!_ " Jabba rumbled, his deep voice echoing through the sound enhancers and out across the flats. " _Tam ka chee Boonta rulee ya, kee maid ahdrudda du wundee! Welcome!_ "

The crowd roared some more, arms and flags waving madly.

Horns sounded as Jabba began his introduction of the racers. " _Kubba tee. Sebulba tuta Pixelito!_ "

The Dug, standing immediately next to Anakin, rose on his back legs and waved to the stands. A band played wildly in support, and Sebulba's fans and anxious bettors depending on the odds that favored the Dug cheered and shouted in response.

One by one, Jabba recognized the Podracer pilots. Gasgano. Boles Roor. Ben Quadinaros. Aldar Beedd. Ody Mandrell. Xelbree. Mars Guo. Clegg Holdfast. Bozzie Baranta. Wan Sandage.

Anakin listened to the names, shifting anxiously, eager to begin. A glance over his shoulder revealed Kitster at work attaching the Radon-Ulzers to his Pod with the Steelton cables, checking the fastenings with sharp tugs.

" _...Mawhonic tutaHok_ ," Jabba boomed. " _Teemto Pagalies tuta Moonus Mandel. Anakin Skywalker tuta Tatooine..._ "

Applause burst from the crowd, though it was not as enthusiastic as it had been for Sebulba or Gasgano or several of the others. Anakin waved in response, eyes traveling over the thousands gathered, his mind already out in the flats.

When he turned to walk to his racer, his mother was standing in front of him. Her worn face was calm and determined as she bent down to give him a hug and a kiss. Her eyes were steady as she backed him off, her hands gripping his shoulders, and she could not quite mask the worry reflected there.

"Be safe, Annie," she told him.

He nodded, swallowing. "I will, Mom. I promise."

She smiled, warm and reassuring, and moved away. Anakin continued, watching Kitster and Jar Jar unhitch the Eopies so that Kitster could lead them away. Artoo rolled up to Anakin and beeped with approval and reassurance. Threepio solemnly warned against the dangers of driving too fast and wished his master well. All was ready.

Jar Jar patted the boy on the back, his billed face a mask of worry and consternation. "Tis very loony, Annie. May da Guds be kind, me friend."

Out of the corner of his eye, Anakin saw Sebulba wander over from his own racer and begin examining the boy's. Hitching along on his spindly legs, he worked his way around the Radon-Ulzers with undisguised interest. Stopping finally at the left engine, he reached up suddenly and banged hard on a stabilizer, glancing around quickly to see if anyone had noticed.

Padmé appeared and gave the boy a small nod. Her dark eyes were intense. "You carry all our hopes," she said quietly.

Anakin's lower lip jutted out. "I won't let you down."

She gave him a long stare, then moved away. As she did so, Sebulba sidled up to him, his wizened, whiskery face angling close.

" _You won't walk away from this one, slave scum,_ " he wheezed softly, grinning. " _You're bantha poodoo._ "

Anakin stood his ground, giving the Dug a stony look. "Don't count on it, slime face."

Qui-Gon and Ashlyn were approaching, and Sebulba backed away toward his own racer, malevolence mirrored in his flat stare. Horns blared, and a new roar rose from the crowd. Jabba the Hutt oozed to the lip of the royal box, his thick arms lifting.

" _Kaa bazza kundee da tam hdrudda!_ " he growled. "Let the challenge begin!"

The roar of the crowd began to build even further. Qui-Gon helped Anakin climb into his Pod. The boy settled himself in place in the seat, securing his straps, fitting his old, battered racing helmet over his head and bringing down his goggles.

"Are you all set, Annie?" the Jedi Master asked calmly. The boy nodded, eyes intense, steady. Qui-Gon held his gaze. "Remember, concentrate on the moment. Feel, don't think. Trust your instincts."

Ashlyn stepped forward, bent down and kissed the boy on his cheek, causing him to blush. "Good luck, Annie. And be careful out there, okay?" Anakin nodded, making her smile and ruffle his head. "I'll see at the end of the line."

She stepped back as the Jedi Master put a hand on the boy's shoulder and smiled too. "May the Force be with you, Annie."

Then they both backed away, and Anakin Skywalker was alone.

Qui-Gon moved quickly through the crowd to the viewing platform where Shmi, Padmé, and Jar Jar waited. He glanced back only once at Anakin and found the boy calmly fitting his goggles in place. The Jedi Master nodded to himself. The boy would do all right. He mounted the viewing platform with Jar Jar and the women just as it began to lift into position for the race.

Shmi gave him a worried, questioning look. "He's fine," Qui-Gon assured her, touching her shoulder.

Padmé shook her head doubtfully. "You Jedi are far too reckless," she said quietly.

Ashlyn looked over at her. "Hey! I take offense," she said defensively, though by the slightly dramatic way she spoke, Padmé could tell she was just teasing, though she couldn't help but feel guilty as she realized how much she generalized often.

"Sorry," she said to Ashlyn, who sent her a small shrug and smile, before turning to the Jedi Master. "The Queen―"

"The Queen trusts my judgment, young handmaiden," Qui-Gon interrupted smoothly, directing his words only to her. "Perhaps you should, too."

She glared at him. "You assume too much."

The viewing platform locked into place, and all eyes turned toward the racers. Energy binders were engaged, powerful electromagnetic currents arcing between oaxial plates, locking the twin engines of each Podracer together as a single unit. Now the engines themselves began to turn over, their booming coughs and rumbles mingling with and then overwhelming the roar of the crowd. Flag bearers and pit crews moved hastily aside, clearing the start line beneath the arch that marked the beginning and end of the race. Overhead, a red light held the racers in place. Anticipating the green, the pilots gunned their engines, the massive casings shaking with the force of the power they generated, the cables that bound them to the Pods and their drivers straining to break free.

Standing next to Qui-Gon, Jar Jar covered his eyes in dismay. "Me no watch. Dis gonna be messy!"

Though he could not bring himself to say so, the Jedi Master was inclined to agree.

 _Steady, Anakin Skywalker_ , he thought to himself.  _Concentrate_.

Then the light over the starting line flashed bright green, and the race was underway.

Anakin Skywalker jammed the twin thruster bars to the extreme forward position, sending maximum power to the Radon-Ulzers. The big rocket engines bucked, roared like a caged beast...

But then it promptly died.

"We're doomed," Ashlyn mumbled from where she stood on the viewing platform, squeezed with Padmé, between Qui-Gon and Shmi.

"Agree," Padmé muttered under her breath as she watched as well.

The boy had frozen. All around him, racers shot from the start in a cacophony of sound and a flashing of bright metal. Sand spurted in the wake of their passing, clouding the air in a whirlwind of grit. In seconds, the boy was alone, save for Ben Quadinaros's Quadra-Pod, which sat stalled at the starting line in mirror image of his own.

Anakin's mind raced desperately. He'd fed in too much fuel from a dead start. The reworked engines couldn't handle all that power at once if the racer wasn't already moving. He yanked back on the thruster bars, returning them to the neutral position. Ratcheting back the switches to the feeder dump, he cleared the fuels, then sealed them anew. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the ignition buttons. The starters cranked over and caught, and the big Radon-Ulzers roared to life with a booming cough. He fed in fuel more cautiously this time, impatience flooding through him, then slid the thruster bars forward smoothly. The engines shot ahead, dragging the Pod and the boy after them, exploding out of the start.

Anakin gave chase with single-minded determination, not bothering with anything but the dots in the distance that marked the location of the other racers. He tore across the flats, the whine of the Pod's engines growing steadily sharper, the land beneath fading to a wash of heat and light. The course was flat and open in the beginning, and he pushed the thruster bars forward some more. He was accelerating so quickly that everything about him turned swiftly to a sun-drenched blur.

Ahead, the first set of rock formations rose up against the horizon. Anakin could see the other Podracers now, bright metal shapes whipping across the flats, engines throwing off fire and smoke. He closed on them quickly, the Radon-Ulzers screaming. In an open stretch, he knew, there were no other engines that could match them.

A flush of white-hot excitement burned through him as he caught the trailing Podracers.

He hauled back on the thruster bars as he came upon them, giving himself space to maneuver. He went by two as if they were standing still, angling his way left and then right, threading the needle of space they had left between them. When he was clear, he fed power to the engines anew, and the g-force slammed him back against his padded seat. He caught multi-limbed Gasgano next. Easing up to the Troiken's snub-nosed Podracer, he got ready to pass. Arch Canyon loomed ahead, and he wanted to be clear of the others when he navigated through the ravine. Maneuvering cautiously, he prepared to overtake on the right. But Gasgano saw him, and quickly moved to cut him off.

Anakin waited, then angled left for another try. Again, Gasgano cut him off. Back and forth they slid above the desert floor like a krayt dragon chasing a wamp rat.

A cliff drop off a low mesa appeared as a ragged line on the horizon.

Ashlyn let out a very girly squeal in fear for the boy, shocking herself. "He's gonna die!" she breathed out, subconsciously grabbing Padmé's hand and squeezing.

"He's not going to die, Ashlyn," said the Jedi Master. "Have faith."

Ashlyn gave him an offended look. "I  _have_  faith," she said defensively. "But I also have realism, and though he might not die, the probabilities of dying out there are still high!"

Qui-Gon, though nervous as well, chuckled and shook his head, eyes not leaving the race. "You need to calm down, young one."

Ashlyn groaned, then sighed. "I know."

Anakin slowed, giving Gasgano the impression he was preparing for a drop shift. The wiry pilot, glancing back quickly to make certain where the boy was, held his position until he reached the mesa edge, then took the drop first. The moment he did so, Anakin jammed the thruster bars all the way forward, and his racer accelerated with such speed that it rocketed right over the top of Gasgano before the other could do anything to prevent it.

The dark crease of the canyon loomed ahead, and Anakin threaded the eye of its needle opening with a seamstress's skill, racing into the cool shadows beyond. The Radon-Ulzers hummed anxiously, the energy binders keeping them in sync, the Steelton cables drawing on the racing Pod with just the right amount of give through the wicked turns. Anakin worked the thruster bars with small, precise movements, envisioning the course in his mind-each twist, each deviation, each rise and drop.

Everything was clear and certain to him. Everything was revealed.

He shot through the canyon and back out onto the open flats. Ahead, beyond a dozen others, Mawhonic and Sebulba fought for the lead. The Dug's distinctive X-shaped engines lifted and rose, maneuvering for position. But Mawhonic's slender racer was slowly gliding away.

Then Sebulba accelerated and swung violently left, careening toward the other pilot. Mawhonic reacted instinctively, swinging left as well-and directly into a massive rock formation. Mawhonic disappeared in a huge ball of flame and black smoke.

Next it was Xelbree challenging, trying to sneak past Sebulba from above, much as Anakin had done with Gasgano. But the Dug sensed his presence and rose to block his passage. Xelbree slid left, drawing alongside, holding fast. Sebulba seemed to lose ground, to give way slightly. But when Xelbree was next to him, the Dug triggered a side vent in his left exhaust. Fire spewed laterally into Xelbree's engine, cutting apart the metal housing as if it were made of flimsiplast. Xelbree tried frantically to move away, but he was too slow. Fuel caught and ignited. The damaged engine exploded, and the remaining engine and its Pod flew off into a cliff face and shattered.

Without slowing, Sebulba sped away from the wreckage, alone at the head of the pack.

"That filthy, over-anorexic bastard!" Ashlyn grunted.

In the arena stands and from viewing platforms scattered throughout the course, the crowd watched the progress of the race on hand-held view-screens as pictures of the racers were transmitted from droid observation holo-cams. From a monitoring tower, a two-headed announcer who bantered incessantly with himself reported on the leaders. Qui-Gon studied a screen with Ashlyn, Padmé and Shmi, but there was neither mention nor sight of Anakin. The announcer's twin voices rose and fell in measured cadence, filling the air with their inflection, building in pitch to stir the already frenzied crowd.

Qui-Gon stared out into the flats, searching for movement. On his right, Jar Jar bickered with a skinny, sour-faced alien named Fanta, trying to peer over his shoulder, besieging him with questions, trying to make friends in the mistaken belief that because they looked vaguely alike, the latter would reciprocate his overtures. It wasn't working out. Fanta wanted nothing to do with Jar Jar and kept his back turned to the Gungan, deliberately hiding the screen from view. Jar Jar was growing impatient. He wasn't the only one; Ashlyn was practically biting her lip off.

Qui-Gon shifted his gaze. In the crew pits, Artoo, Threepio, and Kitster waited in solitary isolation.

In a private box somewhat in back of and lower than Jabba's, Watto laughed and joked with his friends. The Toydarian flitted this way and that, catching glimpses of the race on various view-screens, rubbing his hands together anxiously. He caught sight of Qui-Gon and gestured rudely, his meaning clear.

Below, at the start line, Ben Quadinaros still struggled to ignite the engines of his Quadra-Pod.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and blocked everything away, sounds and movements alike, becoming one with the Force, disappearing into its flow, searching for Anakin. He stayed lost within himself as the roar of the crowd lifted anew, and the sound of rocket engines rose out of the distance. At the edge of the horizon, a clump of dark specks hove into view.

On the starting line, Ben Quadinaros finally managed to start the engines of his racer, all four bulbous monsters roaring to life, vibrating wildly within their casings. Engines and Pod lurched as Quadinaros locked in the thrusters. But in the next instant the energy binders collapsed under the strain, the connecting cables snapped, and the engines shot off in four separate directions, exploding against stone walls, rock formations, and low dune banks. The crowd gasped in shock, shielding eyes and covering ears as the Pod and Ben Quadinaros collapsed to the racetrack in a useless heap.

Almost simultaneously Sebulba's racer screamed past the arena, shooting under the finish arch, and rocketing off on the start of the second lap. Two other racers followed, their engines roaring loudly as they whipped past, their colorful metal bodies agleam in the midday suns.

"Come on, Annie, come on..." Ashlyn mumbled, leg starting to shake out of nervous habit.

But there was no sign of Anakin.

Qui-Gon kept his eyes closed, searching within his consciousness. Beside him, Shmi and Padmé exchanged worried glances. Ashlyn bit her lip and started tugging the hem of her jacket. Jar Jar still hung on Fanta, pounding him on the back now in excitement as the other grimaced and tried to move away.

Three more racers tore past, the sound of their engines dying into silence as they faded from view. A fourth, Ody Mandrell, turned into the pits, the engines of his Pod shaking and smoking as he screeched to a stop. Pit droids rushed to service the racer, swarming over the engines. Ody stood up in the cockpit, a big, squat, reptilian Er'Kit, arms gesturing. But when the engines ignited a new, DUM-4, a pit droid, was standing at the left intake, and the engine sucked it inside, chewed it up, and spit it out the exhaust in a mangled heap.

The crowd went back to their view-screens, intent on the race.

Then Artoo, standing with Kitster and Threepio at the edge of their station, gave an excited beep.

Qui-Gon's eyes snapped open. "Here he comes!" he exclaimed quickly.

Anakin Skywalker exploded out of the midday glare, the big Radon-Ulzers howling in fury. Amidst the cheers and shouts of his companions and the crowd, Qui-Gon Jinn just smiled. Ashlyn worried expression turned to one of glee as a full-blown grin spread across her face. Anakin had begun to overtake the pack.

At the beginning of the second lap, Anakin was in sixth place. As the race progressed, he was slowly disappearing into the workings of his racer, becoming one with its engines, feeling the strain and tug on each rivet and screw. Wind whipped by him in a screaming rush, locking him away in its white noise. There was only himself and the machine, all speed and response. It was the way racing affected him, melding his body with the Pod and engines until he was a part of both. Moment by moment, the symbiosis deepened, joining them, giving him insights and understandings that transcended his senses and knowledge, projecting him past the present and into a place others could not reach.

Approaching Arch Canyon, he bore down on the leaders, young face intense. Skimming the flats, he whipped past Aldar Beedo and side-slipped Clegg Holdfast. To one side, a fast-closing Ody Mandrell banked too hard over a sandy rise and caught his engine in the sand. Ody's racer cartwheeled in a spectacular twisting of engines and Pod and exploded apart. Anakin was only four racers back from Sebulba and could see the Dug's craft clearly in the distance.

Everything happened quickly after that.

The racers whipped tough Arch Canyon and out the other side in a ragged line, with Anakin narrowing the gap between himself and the others. Tusken Raiders, hiding in the rocks of the cliffs that formed the corner of Tusken Turn, got lucky and hit Teemto Pagalies. Teemto's racer simply exploded and was gone. Anakin flew through the vaporized wreckage in pursuit of the others. He passed Elan Mak and Habba Kee in a rush. Ahead, Mars Guo was closing on Sebulba, wary of the Dug, keeping down and away, trying to sneak past. Anakin drew nearer to both, leapfrogging sand dunes in a long depression, easing slowly up on Mars Guo.

Suddenly Sebulba reached out of his Pod's cockpit and released a ragged bit of metal directly into Mars Guo's left engine intake. Metal clashed violently against metal, and the damaged engine began to spew smoke and fire. Mars tried to hold the machine steady, but the failing engine bucked and lost power, causing the Pod to veer sharply into Anakin. The racers collided in a shriek of metal, and a leading edge of Mars Guo's vertical stabilizer snagged the Steelton line to Anakin's left engine and released the binding.

Instantly Anakin's Pod began to swing violently at the end of its single remaining line, whipsawing back and forth. The Radon-Ulzers continued to act in concert, locked together by the energy binders, but the racer was out of control. Anakin worked the stabilizer pedals with his feet, fighting to hold the Pod steady as it swung like a pendulum. The unhooked line snapped viciously in the wake of the engine's exhaust, threatening to tangle or snag on an outcropping and drag the racer down. Anakin groped along the floor of his cockpit, searching for the magnetic retriever. When he found it, he flicked on the power button and extended the retriever out to the left side, trying to make contact with the loose line. The effort forced him to pull back on the thruster bars to cut power, and he fell behind Sebulba once more. Elan Mak, Habba Kee, and now Obitoki as well swept by him, giving chase to the Dug.

Anakin glanced frantically over his shoulder. The bulk of the pack was closing on him once more. After a dozen tries, he finally focused his concentration sufficiently to snag the loose engine line with the retriever and maneuver it back to its hook. Sweat and grit coated his face, and his jacket sleeve was ripped. Casting down the retriever, he jammed the thruster bars forward once more. Stabilized at the ends of the Steelton lines, the Pod held steady now as the Radon-Ulzers bucked, and the racer accelerated after the leaders.

Anakin caught Elan Mak first and slid around him easily. He was closing on Habba Kee when Obitoki tried to pass Sebulba.

The Dug waited until his rival had pulled alongside, then used the same tactic he had employed against Xelbree. Opening a small side vent in the left exhaust, he sent a gush of fire into the housing of Obitoki's right engine. Fuel in the lines caught fire and exploded, and Obitoki's racer dived nose first into the desert, sending a wide spray of grit everywhere.

Habba Kee flew into it just ahead of Anakin, low and tight to the ground. Momentarily blinded, he swerved the wrong way and caught a piece of one of Obitoki's engines where it jutted from the sand. Engines and Pod tangled and crashed in wild explosion. Anakin followed Habba Kee into the smoke and grit, blinded as well. A piece of steaming metal flew at him out of the haze, careening off his right engine housing and barely missing his head. But the boy saw with more than his eyes, sensing with his mind, calm and steady within himself. He could feel the danger waiting, and he worked the thruster bars smoothly, sliding past the wreckage.

Then he was in the clear again and bearing down on Sebulba.

He caught the Dug as they screamed past the arena and under the finish arch for the start of the third and final lap.

In his mind, Anakin could see Qui-Gon, Padmé and Jar Jar watching him; Kitster, standing in the crew pits, his friend cheering wildly, and Artoo and Threepio, (the former beeping, the latter nattering back at him in response; Ashlyn, her beautiful face framed with worry; and his mother, her eyes filled with terror. He could see them all, as if he were standing among them, standing outside himself, watching the race...

He blocked their faces away, banished the images from his thoughts, and focused everything on Sebulba.

They were speeding out of Arch Canyon when Sebulba decided to put an end to Anakin once and for all. The Dug knew where all the droid observation cams were situated. He knew the angles of placement and how to avoid giving himself away. Swinging his racer close to Anakin's, he opened the side vent on his exhaust and tried to scorch the boy's engine housing as he had done with Xelbree and Obitoki. But Anakin had fallen victim to that particular trick once before and was looking for it this time. He shifted just above the cutting flame and out of reach. When Sebulba tried to follow, Anakin dropped down again-but too far, momentarily losing control. His racer veered from the course right into a line of warning signs, sending them flying in all directions. Desperate to recover, he lifted the nose of his craft skyward, jammed his thruster bars forward, and accelerated. The Radon-Ulzers boomed, his racer gave a frightening lurch, and he leapfrogged right over Sebulba to take the lead.

Down through the first set of caves and past Tusken Turn the racers tore, Anakin leading, Sebulba right on his tail. At speeds too great for maintaining proper control, the antagonists banked and angled as if safety were of no importance at all.

And finally burst into the clear once more.

Again, Sebulba tried to regain the lead, pushing for an opening. Anakin held him off, but then one of the horizontal stabilizers on the left engine began to shudder violently. A momentary vision of Sebulba hammering on his stabilizer just before the start of the race flashed through Anakin's mind. He eased off on the thruster bars, jettisoned the stabilizer, and switched to an auxiliary mount. In the process, he was forced to give way. Sebulba raced past him to take command of the lead once more.

Time and space were running out on Anakin Skywalker. He shoved the thruster bars forward and went after the Dug. Sebulba saw him coming and fishtailed his Pod back and forth in front of the boy to keep him from passing. Over the courseway they sped, jockeying for position. Anakin tried everything he knew, but Sebulba was a seasoned veteran and was able to counter each attempt. Metta Drop flew past as the racers roared out of the dune hills and onto the final stretch of flats.

Finally, Anakin shifted left, then right. But this time when Sebulba moved to block him, Anakin faked a third shift, drawing the Dug left again. The instant Sebulba began his blocking move, Anakin jerked his racer hard to the right and nosed in beside the Dug Down the flat, open final stretch of the course the Podracers tore, side by side, the arena stands and warding statuary beginning to take shape ahead. Sebulba screamed in frustration and deliberately swerved his Pod into Anakin's. Infuriated by the boy's dogged persistence, he slammed into him, once, twice. But on the third strike, their steering rods caught, locking them together. Anakin fought with his controls, trying to break free, but the Pods were hooked fast. Sebulba laughed, jamming his racer against the boy's in an effort to force him into the ground. Anakin whipped the thruster bars forward and back, trying to disengage from the tangle. The Radon-Ulzers strained with the effort, and the steering rods groaned and bent.

Finally, Anakin's rod broke completely, snapping off both the armature and the main horizontal stabilizer.

The boy's Pod jerked and spun at the ends of the Steelton cables, shimmying with such force that Anakin would have been thrown from the Pod if he had not been strapped down. But it was much worse for Sebulba. When Anakin's steering arm snapped, the Dug's Pod shot forward as if catapulted, collapsing the towlines, sending the engines screaming out of control. One engine slammed into a piece of the ancient statuary and disintegrated in flames. Then the second went, ramming into the sand and exploding in a massive fireball. The towing cables broke free, and the Dug's Pod was sent skidding through the flaming wreckage of the engines, twisting and bumping violently along the desert floor to a smoking stop. Sebulba extricated himself in a shrieking fit, throwing pieces of his ruined Pod in all directions only to discover that his pants were on fire.

Anakin Skywalker flew overhead, the exhausts from the big Radon-Ulzers sending sand and grit into the Dug's face in a stinging spray. Hanging on to maintain control as he crossed the finish line, he became, at nine years of age, the youngest winner ever of the Boonta Eve race.

As the viewing platform he occupied with Shmi, Ashlyn, Padmé, and Jar Jar slowly lowered, Qui-Gon watched the crowd surge toward Anakin's racer. The boy had brought the Pod to a skidding halt in the center of the raceway, shut down the Radon-Ulzers, and climbed out. Kitster had already reached him and was hugging him tightly, and Artoo and Threepio were scuttling around them both. When the crowd converged moments later, they hoisted Anakin aloft and carried him away, chanting and shouting his name.

Ashlyn let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. "Oh, my God. That just happened. Tell me that just happened." She turned to Qui-Gon. "Did that really just happen?"

He nodded, still smiling. "Yes, Ashlyn."

"Are you lying to me?!"

He chuckled. "No, Ashlyn. 'That really just happened'."

She let out another breath before starting to smile, eyes twinkling and shining from the suns. Qui-Gon exchanged a warm smile with Shmi, nodding his approval of the boy's performance.

Anakin Skywalker was special indeed.


	6. Chapter Six

The viewing platform settled in place smoothly, and its occupants off-loaded onto the raceway in a rush.

Allowing his companions to join the celebration, the Jedi Master turned back toward the stands. Ascending the stairways swiftly, with Ashlyn at his heels, he reached Watto's private box in minutes. A knot of aliens departed just in front of him, laughing and joking in several languages, counting fistfuls of currency and credits. Watto was staring out at the chanting crowd, hovering at the edge of the viewport, a dejected look on his wrinkled blue face.

The moment he caught sight of Qui-Gon, his dejection transformed, and he flew at the Jedi Master in undisguised fury.

"You! You swindled me!" He bounced in the air in front of Qui-Gon, shaking with rage. "You knew the boy was going to win! Somehow you knew it! I lost everything!"

Qui-Gon smiled benignly. "Whenever you gamble, my friend, eventually you'll lose. Today wasn't your day." The smile dropped away. "Bring the hyperdrive parts to the main hangar right away. I'll come by your shop later so you can release the boy."

The Toydarian shoved his snout against Qui-Gon's nose. "You can't have him! It wasn't a fair bet!"

Ashlyn looked him up and down with a chilly stare. "Would you like to discuss it with the Hutts? I'm sure they'd be happy to settle the matter."

Watto jerked as if stung, his beady eyes filled with hate. "No, no! I want no more of your tricks." He gestured emphatically. "Take the boy! Be gone!"

He wheeled away and flew out of the box, body hunched beneath madly beating wings. Ashlyn and Qui-Gon watched him depart, then started down the stairs for the racetrack, both their minds already turning to other things.

Had either of them not been so preoccupied with their plans for what lay ahead, they might have caught sight of the Sith probe droid trailing after them.

Within an hour, the arena had emptied, the racers had been stored or hauled away for repairs, and the main hangar left almost deserted. A few pit droids were still engaged in salvaging pieces of wreckage from the race, corning and going in steady pursuit of their work. Anakin alone of the Pod pilots remained, checking over his damaged racer. He was dirty and ragged, his hair spiky and his face streaked with sweat and grime. His jacket was torn in several places, and there was blood on his clothing where he had slashed his arm on a jagged piece of metal during the battle with Sebulba.

Qui-Gon watched him thoughtfully, standing to one side with Ashlyn, Padmé, and Shmii as the boy, Jar Jar, Artoo, and Threepio moved busily over the Pod and engines.

 _Could it be?_ he was wondering for what must have been the hundredth time, pondering the way the boy handled a Podracer, the maturity he exhibited, and the instincts he possessed. _Was it possible?_

He shelved his questions for another time. It would be up to the Council to decide. Abruptly, he left the women, walking over to the boy and kneeling beside him.

"You're a bit worse for wear, Annie," he said softly, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders and looking him in the eyes, "but you did well." Smiling reassuringly, he wiped a patch of dirt off the boy's face. "There, good as new."

He ruffled the boy's unruly hair and helped bind his injured arm. Shmi and Padmé joined them and were moved to give Anakin fresh hugs and kisses, checking him over carefully, touching his cheeks and forehead.

"Ah, gee... enough of this," the boy mumbled in embarrassment.

His mother smiled, shaking her head. "It's so wonderful, Annie— what you've done here. Do you know? You've brought hope to those who have none. I'm so very proud of you."

"We owe you everything," Ashlyn added quickly, giving him an intense, warm look, a small smile on her face.

Anakin blushed scarlet. "Just feeling this good is worth anything," he declared, smiling back.

Qui-Gon walked over to where the hyperdrive parts were loaded on an antigrav-repulsor sled harnessed to a pair of Eopies. Watto had made delivery as promised, though not without considerable grumbling and a barrage of thinly veiled threats. Qui-Gon checked the container straps, glanced out into the midday heat, and walked back to the others.

"Ashlyn, Padmé, Jar Jar, let's go," he ordered abruptly. "We've got to get these parts back to the ship."

The group moved over to the Eopies, laughing and talking. Padmé patted Anakin on the shoulder out of gratefulness and relief that he was. Ashlyn hugged and kissed Anakin again, then climbed onto one of the Eopies behind Qui-Gon, taking hold of his waist, Padmé squeezing in behind her, securing her arms around her waist as she had with the Jedi Master. Jar Jar swung onto the second animal and promptly slid off the other side, collapsing in a heap. Artoo beeped encouragingly as the Gungan tried again, this time managing to keep his seat.

Goodbyes and thank-yous were exchanged, but it was an awkward moment for Anakin. He looked as if he wanted to say something to Ashlyn, moving up beside her momentarily, staring up at her expectantly. But all he could manage was a sad, confused look.

Slowly, the Eopies began to move off, Anakin and his mother standing with Threepio, waving after.

"I'll return the Eopies by midday," Qui-Gon promised, calling over his shoulder.

Ashlyn did not look back at all, her mind elsewhere. There was a tug at the pit of her stomach as the latter twisted, almost giving the owner a stomachache and a headache from trying to ignore. She knew there was no dismissing such feeling anymore as she recognized it; that grand, fluid energy field— a new presence. It was so much like the one she'd felt from Qui-Gon before their 'introducing' battle, but the difference was that this one was much darker, heavier, spirit and body-aching... evil.

Qui-Gon and company rode out of Mos Espa into the Tatooine desert, Artoo leading the way, rolling along in front of the Eopies and sled at a steady pace. The suns were rising quickly to a mid-day position in the sky, and the heat rose off the sand in waves. But the journey back to the Queen's transport was accomplished swiftly and without incident.

Obi-Wan was waiting for them, appearing down e rampway as soon as they neared, his youthful face intense. "I was getting worried," he announced without preamble.

Qui-Gon dismounted, then helped Ashlyn down. "Start getting this hyperdrive generator installed," he ordered. "I'm going back. I have some unfinished business."

"Business?" his protege echoed, arching one eyebrow.

"I'm coming with," Ashlyn said as she helped Padmé down, then passed the latter her jacket, which she knew she wouldn't need anymore. She pulled the puffy black shirt out of her bag and put it on before handing the bag over to Padmé as well, but not before grabbing her lightsaber and attaching it to her hip, and her lightdaggers, fitting one into each of her boots, then straightening up and tying her hair back.

Qui-Gon frowned but nodded all the same. "We won't be long."

Obi-Wan studied the Jedi Master a moment, then sighed. "Why do I sense we've picked up another stray?"

Qui-Gon took his arm and moved him away from the others. "It's the boy who's responsible for getting us these parts." He paused. "The boy whose blood sample you ran the midi-chlorian test on last night."

Obi-Wan gave him a hard, steady look, then turned away.

On a rise overlooking the spacecraft, hidden in the glare of the suns and the ripple of the dunes, the Sith probe droid hung motionless for a final transmission, then quickly sped away.

Anakin walked home with his mother and Threepio, still wrapped in the euphoria of his victory, but wrestling as well with his sadness over the departure of Ashlyn. He hadn't thought about what would happen to her if he won the Boonta Eve, that it would mean Qui-Gon would secure the hyperdrive generator he needed to make their transport functional. So when she bent to kiss and hug him goodbye, it was the first time he had given the matter any serious thought since her arrival. He was stunned, caught in a mix of emotions, and all of a sudden he wanted to tell her to stay. But he couldn't bring himself to speak the words, knowing how foolish they would sound, realizing she couldn't do so in any case. So he stood there like a droid without its vocoder, watching her ride away behind Qui-Gon, thinking it might well be the last time he would ever see her, and wondering how he was going to live with himself if it was.

Unable to sit still once he had walked his mother to their home, he placed Threepio back in his bedroom, deactivated him, and went out again. Qui-Gon had told him he was relieved of any work today at Watto's, so he pretty much could do was wait until the Jedi returned. He gave no thought to what would happen then, wandering down toward Mos Espa Way, waving as his name was shouted out from every quarter on his journey, basking in the glow of his success. He still couldn't quite believe it, and yet it felt as if he had always known he would win this race. Kitster appeared, then Arnee and Wald, and soon he was surrounded by a dozen others.

He was just approaching the connector to Mos Espa Way when a Rodian youngster, bigger than himself, blocked his way.

 _Anakin had cheated_ , the Rodian sneered. _He couldn't have won the Boonta Eve any other way. No slave could win anything._

Anakin was on top of him so fast the bigger being barely had time to put up his arms in defense before he was on the ground.

Anakin was hitting him as hard and fast as he could, not thinking about anything but how angry he was, not even aware that the source of his anger had nothing to do with his victim and everything to do with losing Ashlyn.

Then Qui-Gon and Ashlyn, returned by now with the Eopies, was looming over them. Ashlyn rushed over to the ruckus and pulled Anakin away, separating the two fighters. Qui-Gon walked over and demanded to know what this was all about. Somewhat sheepishly, but still angry, Anakin told him. Ashlyn sighed, then looked at the Jedi. Qui-Gon studied the boy carefully, disappointment registering on his broad features. He fixed the young Rodian with his gaze and asked him if he still believed Anakin had cheated. The youngster, glowering at Anakin, said he did. Qui-Gon put his hand on Anakin's shoulder and steered him away from the crowd, not saying anything until they were out of hearing.

"You know, Annie," he said then, his deep voice thoughtful, "fighting didn't change his opinion. The opinions of others, whether you agree with them or not, are something you have to learn to tolerate."

They walked the boy back toward his home, Ashlyn completely quiet, eyes and mind focused on her surroundings as the Jedi counseled the boy quietly about the way life worked, hand resting on his shoulder in a way that made Anakin feel comforted. As they neared the boy's home, the Jedi reached beneath his poncho and produced a leather pouch filled with credits.

"These are yours," he announced. "I sold the Pod." He pursed his lips. "To a particularly surly and rather insistent Dug."

Anakin accepted the bag, grinning broadly, the fight and its cause forgotten.

He ran up the steps to his door and burst through, Qui-Gon following silently. "Mom, Mom!" he cried out as she appeared to greet him.

"I'm gonna stay out here," Ashlyn mumbled, then walked outside without another word, a frown on her perfectly smooth features.

"Guess what! Qui-Gon sold the Pod! Look at all the money we have!" He produced the leather pouch and dropped it into her hands, enjoying the startled look on her face.

"Oh, my goodness!" Shmi breathed softly, staring down at the bulging pouch. "Annie, that's wonderful!"

Her eyes lifted quickly to meet Qui-Gon's. The Jedi stepped forward, holding her gaze. "Annie has been freed," he said.

The boy's eyes went wide. "What?"

Qui-Gon glanced down at him. "You are no longer a slave."

Shmi Skywalker stared at the Jedi in disbelief, her worn face rigid, her eyes mirroring her shock and disbelief.

"Mom? Did you hear that, Mom?" Anakin let out a whoop and jumped as high as he could manage. It wasn't possible! But he knew it was true, knew that it really was! He managed to collect himself. "Was that part of the prize, or what?" he asked, grinning.

Qui-Gon grinned back. "Let's just say Watto learned an important lesson about gambling."

Shmi Skywalker was shaking her head, still stunned by the news, still working it through. But the sight of Anakin's face made everything come clear for her in an instant. She reached out to him and pressed him to her.

"Now you can make your dreams come true, Annie," she whispered, her face radiant as she touched his cheek. "You're free."

She released him and turned to Qui-Gon, her eyes bright and expectant. "Will you take him with you? Is he to become a Jedi?" Anakin beamed at the suggestion, wheeling quickly on Qui-Gon, waiting for his answer.

The Jedi Master hesitated. "Our meeting was not a coincidence. Nothing happens by accident. You are strong with the Force, Annie, but you may not be accepted by the Council."

Anakin heard what he wanted to hear, blocking away everything else, seeing the possibilities that had fueled his hopes and dreams for so long come alive in a single moment.

"A Jedi!" he gasped. "You mean I get to go with you in your starship and everything! And be with Ashlyn too!" The thought struck him like a thunderbolt, wrapping him in such expectancy that it was all he could do to listen to what the Jedi Master said next.

Qui-Gon knelt before the boy, his face somber. "Anakin, training to be a Jedi will not be easy. It will be a challenge. And if you succeed, it will be a hard life."

Anakin shook his head quickly. "But it's what I want! It's what I've always dreamed about!" He glanced at his mother. "Can I go, Mom?"

But Qui-Gon drew him back with a touch. "This path has been placed before you, Annie. The choice to take it must be yours alone."

The man and the boy stared at each other. A mix of emotions roiled through Anakin, threatening to sweep him away, but at their forefront was the happiness he felt at finding the thing he wanted most in all the world within reach-to be a Jedi, to journey down the space lanes of the galaxy. He glanced quickly at his mother, at her worn, accepting face, seeing in her eyes that in this, as in all things, she wanted what was best for him.

His gaze returned to Qui-Gon. "I want to go," he said.

"Then pack your things," the Jedi Master advised. "We haven't much time."

"Yippee!" the boy shouted, jumping up and down, anxious already to be on his way. He rushed to his mother and hugged her as hard as he could manage, then broke away for his bedroom.

He was almost to the doorway when he realized he had forgotten something. A chill swept through him as he wheeled back to Qui- Gon. "What about Mom?" he asked hurriedly, eyes darting from one to the other. "Is she free, too? You're coming, aren't you, Mom?"

Qui-Gon and his mother exchanged a worried glance, and he knew the answer before the Jedi spoke the words. "I tried to free your mother, Annie, but Watto wouldn't have it. Slaves give status and lend prestige to their owners here on Tatooine."

The boy felt his chest and throat tighten. "But the money from selling..."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "It's not nearly enough."

There was a hushed silence, and then Shmi came to her son and sat down in a chair next to him, taking both of his hands in hers and drawing him close. Her eyes were steady as she looked into his.

"Annie, my place is here," she said quietly. "My future is here. It is time for you to let go... to let go of me. I cannot go with you."

The boy swallowed hard. "I want to stay with you, then. I don't want things to change."

She gave him an encouraging smile, her brow knitting. "You can't stop change any more than you can stop the suns from setting. Listen to your feelings, Annie. You know what's right."

Anakin took a long, slow breath and dropped his gaze, his head lowering. Everything was corning apart inside, all the happiness melting away, all the expectancy fading. But then he felt his mother's hands tighten over his own, and in her touch, he found the strength he needed to do what he knew he must.

Nevertheless, his eyes were brimming as he lifted his gaze once more. "I'm going to miss you so much, Mom," he whispered.

His mother nodded. "I love you, Annie." She released his hands. "Now, hurry."

Anakin gave her a quick, hard hug, and raced from the room, tears streaking his face.

Once within his own room, Anakin stood staring about in sudden bewilderment. He was leaving, and he did not know when he would be coming back. He had never been anywhere but here, never known anyone but the people of Mos Espa and those who came to trade with them. He had dreamed about other worlds and other lives, about becoming a pilot of a mainline ship, and about becoming a Jedi. But the impact of what it actually meant to be standing at the threshold of an embarkation to the life he had so often wished for was overwhelming.

He found himself thinking of the old spacer, telling him that he wouldn't be surprised at all if Anakin Skywalker became something more than a slave. He had wanted that more than anything, had hoped with all his heart for it to happen.

But he had never, ever considered the possibility he would have to leave his mother behind.

He wiped the tears from his eyes, fighting back new ones, hearing his mother's and Qui-Gon's voices from the other room.

"Thank you," his mother was saying softly.

"We'll watch after him." Ashlyn's soft, velvety voice suddenly came in, warm and reassuring. His clenched heart skipped a beat. "You have our word." There was a pause. "Will you be all right?"

Anakin couldn't hear her reply. But then she said, "He was in my life for such a short time..." She trailed off, distracted.

Anakin forced himself to quit listening, and he began pulling clothes out and stuffing them into a backpack. He didn't have much, and it didn't take him long. He looked about for anything of importance he might have missed, and his eyes settled on Threepio, sitting motionless on the workbench. He walked over to the protocol droid and switched him on. Threepio cocked his head and looked at the boy blankly.

"Well, Threepio, I'm leaving," Anakin said solemnly. "I'm free. I'm going away, in a starship..."

He didn't know what else to say. The droid cocked his head. "Well, Master Anakin, you are my maker, and I wish you well. Although I'd like it better if I were a little less naked."

The boy sighed and nodded. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to finish you, Threepio— to give you coverings and all. I'm going to miss working on you. You've been a great pal. I'll make sure Mom doesn't sell you or anything. Bye!"

He snatched up his backpack and rushed from the room, hearing Threepio call after him plaintively, "Sell me?"

Ashlyn gave Shmi a small smile and brought her in a hug. She understood the pain she felt, and the one Anakin was trying hard to mask, and she wished neither of them had to feel so— feel the pain of loss. But what was done was done. Nothing was to change. All Ashlyn could do was try to reassure the poor woman who was watching her son being taken away by strangers, unknown if for the better or for the worse.

"I'll try to bring him back someday. If it's in years, so be it, but I promise you, you will get to see him again," Ashlyn said in a firm voice. "You have my word."

Shmi pulled back from the young girl toward whom she had been grateful since all those days ago when she rescued her son from the supposedly most dangerous Dug in Tatooine and the others.

"Please, promise me you will take care of him, show him affection in _any_ way. Make sure he stays safe. If I don't get to see him again in the future, well, that's how it will be, but I just want to know he will be okay," she pleaded the young girl.

The Outlander smiled at her and nodded. "Don't worry, ma'am. As long as I'm alive, your son will be too. Either I'm at a far or close distance from him; I'll make sure he will always be safe. How? I'm not sure yet, but I'll find a way. I promise he _will_ be okay," she reassured the woman, hugging her one last time before heading over to where Qui-Gon waited, leaving the family to bid their farewells to each other.

Anakin said goodbye to his mother, braver now, more determined, then walked out the door with Ashlyn and Qui-Gon, his course of action settled. He had gotten barely a dozen meters from his home when Kitster, who had trailed them back from the fight, came rushing up to him.

"Where are you going, Annie?" his friend asked doubtfully. Anakin took a deep breath. "I've been freed, Kitster. I'm going away with Qui-Gon. On a spaceship."

Kitster's eyes went wide, and his mouth opened in a silent exclamation. Anakin fished in his pockets and came out with a handful of credits, which he shoved at his friend. "Here. These are for you."

Kitster's dark face looked down at the credits, then back up at Anakin. "Do you have to go, Annie? Do you have to? Can't you stay? Annie, you're a hero!"

Anakin swallowed hard. "I..." He glanced past Kitster to his mother, still standing in the doorway looking after him, then down to where Ashlyn and Qui-Gon were waiting. He shook his head. "I can't."

Kitster nodded. "Well."

"Well," Anakin repeated, looking at him.

"Thanks for everything, Annie," the other boy said. There were tears in his eyes as he accepted the credits. "You're my best friend."

Anakin bit his lip. "I won't forget."

He hugged Kitster impulsively, then broke away and raced toward Qui-Gon. But before he reached him, he glanced back one more time at his mother. Seeing her standing in the doorway brought him about. He stood there momentarily, undecided, conflicting emotions tearing at him. Then his already shaky resolve collapsed altogether, and he raced back to her. By the time he reached her, he was crying freely.

Ashlyn felt her heart break at the sight. She silently envied the boy a bit for even having a chance to decide. She didn't get the chance to decide her mother's fate. She didn't get the chance to tell her goodbye or even to hug her, crying, while telling her to not go, to not leave her— to stay with her, arms around each other, and stay together. 

As a family. 

She didn't get the chance to hold her little brother, pull him away from the danger, scold him when he did something reckless. Her older brother, he was gone before she could even look. Watching the boy weep in his mother's arms reminded her of everything she lost and everything she had to leave behind as she died.

"I can't do it, Mom," he whispered, clinging to her. "I just can't!"

He was shaking, wracked with sobs, disintegrating inside so quickly that all he could think about was holding on to her. Shmi let him do so for a moment, comforting him with her warmth, then backed him away.

She knelt before him, her worn face solemn. "Annie, remember when you climbed that dune to chase the banthas away so they wouldn't be shot? You were only five. Remember how you collapsed several times in the heat, exhausted, thinking you couldn't do it, that it was too hard?"

Anakin nodded, his face streaked with tears.

Shmi held his gaze. "This is one of those times when you have to do something you don't think you can do. But I know how strong you are, Annie. I know you can do this."

The boy swallowed his tears, thinking she was wrong, he was not strong at all, but knowing, too, she had decided he must go, even if he found it hard, even if he resisted.

"Will I ever see you again?" he asked in desperation, giving voice to the worst of his fears.

"What does your heart tell you?" she asked quietly.

Anakin shook his head doubtfully. "I don't know. Yes, I guess."

His mother nodded. "Then it will happen, Annie."

Anakin took a deep breath to steady himself. He had stopped crying now, and he wiped the dampness of his tears from his face.

"I will become a Jedi," he declared in a small voice. "And I will come back and free you, Mom. I promise."

Ashlyn's brows furrowed as she fought back tears. She turned to look away from the scene, heart tightening within her chest. If only she could have done that; promised her family she would end the ruckus they were in, even if she wasn't the one who had started it. She always kept her promises, so, that way, she would've been sure she would make it till the end.

"No matter where you are, my love will be with you," Shmi told him, her kind face bent close to his. "Now be brave, and don't look back."

"I love you, Mom," Anakin said.

She hugged him one final time, then turned him around, so he was facing away from her. "Don't look back, Annie," she whispered.

She gave him a small push, and he strode determinedly away, shouldering his pack, keeping his eyes fixed on a point well past where Qui-Gon stood waiting, Ashlyn a bit further away. He walked toward that point without slowing, marching right past the Jedi Master, toward Ashlyn, fighting back the tears that threatened to come yet again. It took only a few minutes, and his mother and his home were behind him.

They went to Watto's shop first, where the Toydarian had completed the forms necessary to assure Anakin's freedom. The transmitter that bound Anakin to his life of slavery was deactivated permanently. It would be removed surgically at a later date. Watto was still grumbling about the unfairness of things as they left him and went back out into the street.

From there, at Anakin's urging, they walked to Jira's fruit stand a short distance away. Anakin, much recovered from the trauma of leaving his mother, marched up to the old woman and put a handful of credits into her frail hands.

"I've been freed, Jira," he told her, a determined set to his jaw. "I'm going away. Use these for that cooling unit I promised you. Otherwise, I'll worry."

Jira looked at the credits in disbelief. She shook her white head. "Can I give you a hug?" she asked him softly. She reached out for him, drawing him against her thin body, her eyes closing as she held him. "I'll miss you, Annie," she said, releasing him. "There isn't a kinder boy in the galaxy. You be careful."

He left her in a rush, racing after Ashlyn and Qui-Gon, who were already moving away, anxious to get going. They walked in silence down a series of side streets, the boy's eyes taking in familiar sights he would not soon see again, remembering his life here, saying goodbye.

He was lost in his own thoughts when Qui-Gon swung about with such swiftness it caught the boy completely by surprise. Down swept the Jedi's lightsaber in a brilliant arc, cutting through the shadows between two buildings, clashing momentarily with something made of metal that shattered in the wake of the weapon's passing.

Qui-Gon clicked off the lightsaber and knelt to inspect a cluster of metal parts still sparking and fizzing in the sand. The acrid smell of ozone and burning insulation hung in the dry air.

"What is it?" the boy asked, peering over his shoulder. Ashlyn became hyper-aware, glancing quickly at each spec her eyes can absorb from their surroundings.

Qui-Gon rose. "Probe droid. Very unusual. Not like anything I've seen before." He glanced about worriedly, eyes sharp and bright as he cast up and down the street. "Come on, Annie. Ashlyn, stay close," he ordered, and they moved quickly away.

Qui-Gon took the boy and the teenage girl out of Mos Espa swiftly, hurrying through the crowded streets to the less populated outskirts. All the while, his eyes, and mind were searching, the former the landscape of Tatooine, the latter the landscape of the Force. His instincts had alerted him to the presence of the probe droid tracking them, and his Jedi training in the ways of the Force warned him now of something far more dangerous. He could feel a shifting in the balance of things that suggested an intrusion on the harmony that the Force required, a dark weight descending like a massive stone.

Once out on the desert, in the open, he picked up the pace. The Queen's transport came into view, a dark shape just ahead, a haven of safety. He heard Anakin call out to him, the boy working hard to keep up, but beginning to fall behind.

Glancing over her shoulder to give a response and offer encouragement, Ashlyn caught sight of the speeder and its dark-cloaked rider bearing down on them, and before Qui-Gon could react, she shouted, "Drop, Anakin!" as she wheeled about.

The boy threw himself face down, flattening against the sand as the speeder whipped overhead, barely missing him as it bore down on Qui-Gon, though the latter was pushed away. Ashlyn already had her lightsaber out, the blade activated, the weapon held before her in two hands. The speeder came at her, this time, a saddle-shaped vehicle with no weapons in evidence, made to rely on quickness and maneuverability rather than firepower. It was like nothing the Jedi Master, even less the girl had ever seen, but vaguely reminiscent of something dead and gone. Its rider rode out of the glare of the suns and was revealed. Bold markings of red and black covered a demonic face in strange, jagged patterns beneath a crown of stunted horns encircling its head. Man-shaped and humanoid, his slitted eyes and crooked teeth were nevertheless feral and predatory, and his how was a hunter's challenge to his prey.

_"Darth Maul? What kind of name is that?" Ashlyn muttered._

_Lena shrugged. "I don't know; I didn't come up with it. But anyway, he's like this demon-looking guy, face covered in red and black marks... he even has horns. They go around his head like a small crown."_

_Awe, man!_ Ashlyn thought. _Why did I have to get this guy?_

The primal scream had barely sounded before he was on top of Ashlyn, wheeling the speeder aside deftly at the last moment, closing off its thruster, and leaping from the seat, all in one swift movement. He carried a lightsaber of another make, and the weapon was cutting at the girl even before the attacker's feet had touched the ground. Both Ashlyn and Qui-Gon were surprised by the other's quickness and ferocity; the girl who had always been best when it came to speed, agility and flexibility barely blocked the blow with her own weapon, the blades sliding apart with a harsh rasp. The attacker spun away in a whirl of dark clothing, then attacked anew, lightsaber slashing at his intended prey, face alight with a killing frenzy that promised no quarter.

Anakin was back on his feet, staring at them, clearly unable to decide what he should do. Fighting to hold his ground, Ashlyn caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye.

"Qui-Gon! Get Annie out of here! I've got this!" she cried out.

Her attacker closed with her again, forcing her back, striking at her from every angle. Even without knowing anything else, Qui-Gon knew this man was trained in the fighting arts of a Jedi, a skilled and dangerous adversary. Worse, he was younger, quicker, and stronger than himself, but seemed much more experienced than Ashlyn, and he was gaining ground rapidly. The young outlander blocked him again and again, but could not find an opening that would provide any chance of escape. For a moment, they crossed blades and were using nothing but their arm's strength. Ashlyn took that opportunity, head-butted her attacker and took that as a chance to quickly switch from her lightsaber to her lightdaggers to even out the fight.

"Guys, seriously!" she screamed again, seeing the boy immobilized and the Jedi Master caught between studying the fight and hesitating on whether he should help out or not. Knowing Ashlyn so far, he knew she wouldn't want the help, but him being a Jedi had to. Then again, he could use this to help her become one as well. "Get to the ship! Tell them to take off. Go, go!"

Hammering at the demonic-faced attacker with renewed determination, Ashlyn saw the boy and the Jedi Master at last beginning to run.

In a rush of emotion dominated by fear and doubt, Anakin raced past the combatants for the Naboo spacecraft, Qui-Gon not far behind, half of him making sure the boy did not fall or hurt himself, while the other half stayed hyper-aware of the fight going on a few yards away. The ship sat not three hundred meters away, metal skin gleaming dully in the afternoon sunlight. Its loading ramp was down, but there was no sign of its occupants. Anakin ran faster, sweat streaking his body. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he reached the ramp and bounded  
onto the ship.

Just inside the hatchway, he found Padmé and a dark-skinned man in uniform coming toward him. When Padmé caught sight of him, her eyes went wide.

"Ashlyn's in trouble!" the boy blurted out, gasping for breath. "She says to take off. Now!"

The man stared, eyes questioning and suspicious. "Who are you?" he demanded.

But Padmé was already moving, seizing Anakin by the arm, pulling him toward the front of the spacecraft as Qui-Gon came in.

"He's a friend," he said, leading the way forward. "Hurry, Captain."

They rushed down the hallway into the cockpit, Anakin trying to tell the girl what had happened, his words tumbling over one another, his face flushed and anxious. Padmé moved him along in a no-nonsense way, nodding her understanding, telling him to hurry, taking charge of everything. When they reached the cockpit, they found two more men at work checking out the craft's control panel. They turned at the approach of Anakin and his companions. One wore a pilot's insignia on the breast of his jacket. The second, Anakin was quite certain from the cut of his hair and the look of his clothing, was another Jedi.

"Ashlyn is in trouble," Padmé announced quickly.

"She says to take off," Anakin added in support.

The Jedi was on his feet at once. He was much younger than Qui-Gon, his face smooth, his eyes intense, his hair cut short save for a single braided pigtail that fell over his right shoulder.

"Where is she?" he demanded. Then, without waiting for an answer, he wheeled back to the viewport and began scanning the empty flats.

"I don't see anything," the pilot said, peering over his shoulder.

"Over there!" The sharp eyes of the Jedi caught sight of movement just at the corner of the port.

"Get us into the air and over there! Now! Fly low!" Qui-Gon said.

The man called Ric threw himself into the pilot's seat, while the others, Anakin included, scrambled to find seats. The big repulsor-lifts kicked in with a low growl, the rampway sealed, and the sleek transport rose and wheeled smoothly about.

"Who are you?!" Ashlyn exclaimed as she dodged, yet again, another blow.

"I think you know," the demon-looking Sith sneered.

"I'd like to confirm it, please," she growled, kicking at him. She gasped when she felt one of the red blades slice through her skin again.

"Greatest apprentice of the Sith Lord himself, I am Darth Maul," replied the man, lunging forward.

"Nice to meet ya," the girl replied sarcastically. "Now how 'bout we end this without killing each other?"

"Fortunately for you, that's how it's going to be."

Ashlyn froze for a moment, and for that moment, the Sith did not attack as she expected him to. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.

The Sith smirked. "I am not the one who's meant to kill _you_."

Before Ashlyn could ask any further, the fight reengaged. Ashlyn took a step back, then swung a death blow with her daggers, though the Sith was quick to block the attack. The two fighters bashed each other with incredible blows. They moved in a continual cloud of dust, smashing everything around them. This was the fiercest battle Ashlyn had ever played part in, and she could gradually feel herself weakening once more, much more quickly than when she'd fought against Qui-Gon.

"There," Qui-Gon breathed, pointing.

They could see Ashlyn now, engaged in battle with the dark-garbed, demonic figure. The combatants surged back and forth across the flats, double-bladed lightsaber and lightdaggers flashing brightly with each blow struck, sand and grit swirling in all directions. Ashlyn's long raven hair streamed out behind her in sharp contrast to the smooth horned head of her adversary as it fell out of her hair tie.

Their sword battle slowed then quickened but did not stop. They leaped over one another in an incredible display of acrobatics, though at one point, through the leaping, few of his strikes were quite successful, one cutting through her abdomen, another at her hair, slicing it till it no longer fell to her waist, but her shoulders.

The pilot Ric took the spacecraft toward them quickly, skimming the ground barely higher than a speeder bike, coming in from behind the attacker. Anakin held his breath as they closed on the fighters. Ric's hand slid over the control that would lower the ramp, easing it forward carefully.

"Stand by," he ordered, freezing them all in place as he swung the ship about.

The combatants disappeared in a fresh swirl of sand and the glare of Tatooine's twin suns. All eyes shifted quickly to the view-screens, searching desperately.

Then Ashlyn appeared, leaping onto the lowered rampway of the transport, gaining purchase, one hand grasping a strut for support. Ric hissed in approval and fought to hold the spacecraft steady. But the horned attacker was already in pursuit, racing out of the haze and leaping onto the ramp as the ship began to rise. Balanced precariously against the sway of the ship, eyes flaring in rage, he fought to keep his footing. Obi-Wan was about to run off to help the girl, but Qui-Gon stopped him.

"Let her," he said, his voice leaving no place for arguments.

Ashlyn attacked at once, rushing the other man, closing with him at the edge of the ramp. They were twenty meters into the air by now, the pilot holding the spacecraft steady as he saw the combatants come to grips yet again, afraid to go higher while Ashlyn was exposed. The Outlander and her adversary filled the view-screen commanding the rampway entrance, faces tight with determination and streaked with  
sweat.

"Ashlyn," Anakin heard the second Jedi say quietly, desperately, watching the battle for just a moment more, then tearing his eyes away from the view-screen and racing down the open corridor.

On the screen, Anakin watched Ashlyn step back, throw her daggers backward into the ship, then bring out her lightsaber again and level it, and swing a powerful, two-handed blow at her attacker. The horned man blocked it, but only barely, and in the process lost his balance completely. The blow's force swept him away, clear of the ramp and off into space. He dropped back toward the desert floor, landed in a crouch, and rose instantly to his feet. But the chase was over. He stood watching in frustration, yellow eyes aflame, as the ramp to the Queen's transport closed and the spacecraft rocketed away.

Ashlyn had barely managed to scramble up the rampway and into the interior of the ship before the hatch sealed and the Nubian began to accelerate. She lay on the cool metal floor of the entry, her clothing dusty and damp with her sweat and blood, her body bruised, cut and battered. She breathed deeply, waiting for her pounding heart to quiet. She had barely escaped with her life, and the thought was worrisome. Her opponent was strong and had tested her severely. He was stronger than Qui-Gon! What would she do when 'the one' who actually wanted to kill her came? She died once, she didn't want to die again, but she didn't want to keep living if that was how her life was going to be again. She was young. But she was getting old too quickly, though maybe not physically, but psychologically; she did not like the feeling.

Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Anakin rushed down the hallway to help her to her feet, and it was hard to tell which of them looked the more worried. It made her smile in spite of herself.

The boy spoke first. "Are you all right?" he asked, his young face mirroring his concern.

Ashlyn nodded, brushing herself off. "I think so. That was a surprise I won't soon forget."

"What sort of creature was it?" Obi-Wan asked his Master, brow furrowed darkly.

Ashlyn rolled her eyes. _He wants to go back and pick up where I left off_ , she thought.

The Jedi Master shook his head. "I'm not sure. Whoever or whatever he was, he was trained in the Jedi arts."

Ashlyn nodded. "He wasn't the one who was supposed to kill me," she muttered before saying a little louder, "My guess is he was after the Queen." Though Qui-Gon did not miss what she had said to herself.

Obi-Wan then turned to her, a frown on his face. "I told you it'd be too—"

"Dangerous," Ashlyn cut him off with a smirk. "I know, but I'm fine."

"You're not—"

"Obi-Wan, I'm alive. Shouldn't that be what matters the most right now?"

Qui-Gon placed a hand on his apprentice's shoulder. "She's right, young Padawan. Do not worry yourself over what could have been."

"Do you think he'll follow us?" Anakin asked quickly.

"We'll be safe enough once we're in hyperspace," Qui-Gon replied, sidestepping the question. "But I have no doubt he knows our destination. If he found us once, he can find us again."

The boy's brow furrowed. "What are we going to do about it?" At this point, Obi-Wan turned to stare at the boy, giving him a look that demanded in no uncertain terms, What do you mean, "we"? The boy caught the look and stared back at him, expressionless.

"We will be patient," Qui-Gon advised, straightening himself, drawing their attention back to him. "Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The boy beamed. "Pleased to meet you. Wow! You're a Jedi Knight, too, aren't you?"

Ashlyn chuckled and shook her head. The young Jedi looked from the boy to Qui-Gon and rolled his eyes in despair.

From the entry, they made their way back down the hall to the cockpit, where Ric Olie was at work preparing the ship for the jump to hyperspace. Qui-Gon introduced Anakin, and Ashlyn as she hadn't met them before, even though she'd already been on the ship before, to each of those present, then moved to the console to stand next to Ric.

"Ready," the pilot announced over his shoulder, one eyebrow cocked expectantly.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Let's hope the hyperdrive works, and Watto doesn't get the last laugh."

Standing in a group behind Ric, the company watched silently as he fitted his hands to the controls and engaged the hyperdrive. There was a quick, sharp whine, and the stars that filled the viewport turned from silver pinpricks to long streamers as the ship streaked smoothly into hyperspace, leaving Tatooine behind.


	7. Chapter Seven

"Does your head hurt? How about your back? Your—" 

"I'm fine," Ashlyn cut the fourteen-year-old girl off with a sigh, throwing a quick glare toward Qui-Gon who gave her a somewhat smug look after chuckling.

The handmaiden who'd been attending her probed her slightly cold fingers, lightly along her skull. She noticed when Ashlyn winced. "Painful?" she asked. 

Ashlyn gave out a shrug, ignoring the worried looks Padmé and Obi-Wan sent her way; she was rather thankful Qui-Gon nor Anakin made a bigger fuzz out of it. 

"Not really, just a bit sore." _I'd had a million times worse_ , she thought, letting out another sigh.

"Are you sure—"

"Obi-Wan, if you finish that question, or keep hassling me, I will hurt you," she warned, sending the young Jedi a tired glare, before repeating, "I'm fine, really."

She paused for a moment, lips pursed, before finally speaking up again. "I'm in pain," she admitted, "but it's nothing I can't handle. Trust me; I've had much worst before." She sent the handmaiden a grateful look as she finished patching her up.

For a moment, there was but a heavy silence between all of them.

Padmé, seeing the discomfort in her new friend's features, sighed through her nose and looked over at the three male standing in the room, with furrowed brows. "I think it's best to let her rest for now. We all should; it's been a long day."

The two Jedi and the boy reluctantly left, the handmaiden picking up the aiding supplies while Ashlyn stared at Padmé who was staring off into space, deep in thought.

"Paddy?" Ashlyn tried, unsure if it's a good idea to get the girl's attention. The other handmaiden had already quietly left, and it was now only them two in the room.

Padmé snapped out of her thoughts and turned to look at Ashlyn, a slightly perplexed look on her face. "I'm sorry, what did you call me?"

Ashlyn shook her head, a cheeky look on her face. "Forget it, it's just you were so deep in thought... what were you thinking about?" she asked, genuinely curious about what the young girl could possibly be _worrying_  about.

Padmé stared at her for a moment, eyeing her up and down before a look full of determination finally settled onto her childish yet mature, smooth features. "I'm going to get you something better to wear; I doubt you want to walk around with your clothes this wrecked."

Ashlyn looked down at her outfit and felt her eyes widen in surprise, not at the wreck her attire was now, but at the damage beneath it. She hadn't realized she'd been _this_  badly hurt; her puffy shirt and tank top were both torn and cut, her leather pants just as much.

"Thank God I wasn't wearing my jacket," she mumbled after a sigh.

Padmé gave her a disbelieving look. "You were almost sliced into pieces, and you worry about your _jacket_?!"

Ashlyn gave a nonchalant shrug; "It holds sentimental value. I'm actually surprised it appeared with me in this world. I'm glad, though."

Padmé shook her head, letting out a sigh. "I'll go get you some clothes now," she said, heading for the exit.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." That caused her to freeze. She couldn't tell if Ashlyn was bluffing when she said that until she turned back around and saw the serious look on the latter's face.

"H-how do you—"

"Know it's you?" Padmé nodded, unable to speak. Ashlyn shrugged, then began counting down with her fingers, "You'd get easily offended or defensive whenever Qui-Gon spoke of the Queen trusting him or whatnot, and... there's also that authority aura surrounding you." She paused, then gave her a smug look. "Oh, and you just confirmed it by freezing, turning around and asking me."

Padmé blinked, speechless, as Ashlyn gave her a cheeky smile. "Hey, don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

Finally snapping out of her daze, the fourteen-year-old girl sent her a grateful look and nodded in thanks before going to find her a new attire. It didn't take for Padmé to come back with a decent outfit. She led Ashlyn to a more private room, where, once alone, the latter girl could only stare at herself in a body-length mirror, eyes widening when she noticed her hair was at least a third of what it used to be.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" She huffed. "Gosh, and it took me so long to get it to grow barely past my shoulders..." She groaned, running a hand through her now shoulder-length hair.

She could still remember the last time she'd had it that short; it was before her mother had died. She used to have it short all the time because she loved looking like her mother, who, at the time, also always kept it that short. They looked so much alike back then, but when her mother passed, Ashlyn no longer kept it short. She let it grow and dyed it many times before finally settling with black hair; if she left it short and its natural reddish brown color, more problems would've risen with her father― he'd sometimes get hallucinations and think Ashlyn was her mother, eventually resulting with violence when she'd tell him she wasn't her mother.

Sighing, she slipped her puffy shirt off, followed by her tank top and black leather pants. She straightened her posture and just stood there in her red lacy undergarments, staring herself down once more in the mirror. She was fit, she could not be so modest about that; she may have suffered all her life, but she always made sure to stay in shape― she didn't have the best life, but she didn't always want to die either; she stayed in shape for when Zack, Charlie, Lena and her would. She needed to be healthy for then...

Ashlyn frowned; that would never happen now― they're gone.

Sighing, Ashlyn reached for the brown leather pants that were on a divan. She slipped them on, then put on her boots before going to stand in front of the mirror again. Her eyes trained on her upper body where many stitches were visible. It may've not been gruesome, but it still made her shudder as short memories of each scar flashed through her mind.

She exhaled with a slight frown, shaking her head. "Battle scars," she murmured to herself. "They're battle scars." Thinking such of them was the only way she could keep going without hating herself for being so vulnerable the moment she went through those traumas.

She sighed again and reached over to [the new shirt she'd been given. She looked away from her reflection and down to the piece of clothing in her hand. It was a creamed coffee colored shirt, with multicolored embroidery, a gathered drawstring neck and hem, a tasseled tie, draped three-quarter length sleeves, and elasticated cuffs](https://urstyle.com/styles/1658440). It was nice; it had an Amerindian look to it. That made her heart clench; her mother used to wear shirts like this. Sighing, she brought the shirt over her head, unaware that the door to the room had been slid open, only to quickly close again.

Pulling the shirt down her upper body, she blinked a few times before looking back at the door, brows furrowed in slight confusion. She walked over to the door, slid it open and peeked out into the hall.

"Obi-Wan?" She was surprised to see him walking by; she'd expected him to be with the Jedi Master.

The named man turned, face flushed as he looked at her. "Ashlyn."

She blinked a few times. "Are you alright? Do you have a fever or something?" The genuine concern was clear in her tone just as it was on her smooth features.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, why would you think that?"

Ashlyn gave him an uncertain look. "Your face is red..." And it only reddened even more. "Are you sure you okay?"

"I'm fine."

He stared at her, face still red, and she only stared back. Suddenly, she jumped as if remembering something.

"God, I'm rude. I didn't mean to take so long... do you want to come in? I mean it's a free-for-all room, but I sort of made myself too comfortable in here." Her rambling seemed to bring Obi-Wan out of whatever embarrassment he was feeling.

"Sorry, I'm babbling," she apologized with a sheepish look. "Like with the awkwardness... I don't usually talk so much."

Obi-Wan chuckled and shook his head. "It's alright, Ashlyn."

The young girl took a deep breath, then smiled. "Would you like to come in?" she repeated.

"Yes." With that, Ashlyn stepped aside and let him enter the Main Area.

She walked over to the divan and started folding her clothes before putting them in her bag, where her jacket already was. She threw her bag onto another seat, grabbed the Jedi robe she'd been given and placed it neatly beside her bag before walking over to stand beside Obi-Wan, who was staring out a large window out at the galaxy. She looked at him for a moment, then shifted her gaze toward the see-through frame, and let out a small gasp as the sight before her rendered her awestruck.

"It's beautiful..." she mumbled.

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. "It is."

They let a comfortable silence fall between them as they watched the universe moving around them, around the ship. 

It was the most indescribable feeling for Ashlyn; she was staring at what she never thought possible, yet there she was, flying upon the stars with... new... friend _s_. Something she never thought she'd be able to have, ever again. Yet there she had them. A young handmaiden who was in fact a queen, a young boy who really liked her (a bit too much), a droid, an alien, a Jedi Master who cared for her as a daughter and a young Jedi who cared about her as well. Maybe this was her second chance at life. _She frowned_. But, if this was her second chance, why was she being chased again? Why did she have to try to survive again? Why did she have to fight?

Her grayish, hazelnut eyes never leaving the window, she suddenly asked, "You know what's funny?"

Obi-Wan looked down at her. "What?"

"When my first somewhat normal day came along, I thought of this... rebirth as some sort of second chance."

His bright blue-gray eyes looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "I thought of it as my escape... I guess I'm just not meant to stop fighting to stay alive, no matter how much I just want to give up." She frowned, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I did once," she mumbled to herself. "It shouldn't be so hard to do it again."

Obi-Wan frowned at that. "No," he said, catching her attention. He placed a hand under her chin and pulled it up so she would look him in the eye. "You shouldn't say that."

"Why not?" she demanded, though it came out as a mere whisper.

"Because..." He sighed. "Look, I know what you're thinking. You are on another planet. No one understands what you are going through. But actually, they do― I do. You don’t think we do because the only reference point is yourself. You have never felt this way before, and the shock of the descent is traumatizing you, but others have been there. You are in a dark, dark land with a population of millions."

She didn't answer, nor did she look away from him, so he went on. "Things aren't going to get worse. You want to kill yourself. That is as low as it gets. There is only upwards from here."

"Maybe," she whispered. "But in the end, one needs courage... so much more courage to live than to kill themself. I don't have that courage, Obi-Wan. I never have, never will."

"Yes, you do. You just haven't realized it yet," he said softly, smiling slightly at the puzzlement in her grayish, hazelnut eyes. "You wouldn't be here, alive, if you didn't have it."

They stared at each other for a long moment, his hand still gently holding her chin. In her face, he could see nothing but wistful sadness, fear, and confusion. Like she didn't know what she wanted. He was just as lost; his face reflected hers, but then, as neither looked away, his expression changed.

He lifted his other hand to brush his fingertips along her cheek, trailing them down to her jaw. Ashlyn could feel his fingers tremble, but not out of anger. He pressed his warm palm against her cheek.

"Ashlyn..." he murmured.

She stared back at him, unable to move. She could hear Jar Jar ranting aimlessly in the hall, and a rather familiar voice speaking, Artoo beeping noisily as if answering to the familiar stranger's question. They were nearing and would reach them at any minute now, but that changed nothing. Part of her wanted to be held and looked at the way Obi-Wan was currently looking at her, but the other part wanted to pull away because she knew that if she let whatever was about to happen, happen, she would feel like a traitor. But why would she feel like a traitor? True love was forever lost. Her prince had left her, passing in her arms; why did she feel as though she were betraying Zack? Or maybe she was just really betraying herself, or rather, she just didn't feel ready to move on; it had only been a few days after all.

Slowly and carefully he leaned in, the hand that was holding her chin up found its way to the other side of her face, where he tucked away strands of her hair behind her ear. His lips finally made contact with hers, the feeling being indescribable as he passionately locked his lips with hers, deepening the kiss until their lungs begged for air. Her hands moved from her sides to his chest, to the back of his neck, even when they pulled away, she didn't let go of him. Without waiting another second, he crashed his lips back onto hers, backing her up and pushing her up against a windowsill.

For a moment, it was only the two of them there, and nothing else. Her mind was blank and so was his as all they could both think about was the feeling of their lips against each others'. It lasted for a while, but not so long as Artoo's distant whistles brought them back to their senses, and they instantly broke apart, breathless, eyes wide at what they had just done. 

_"Are they allowed to love?"_

_"Attachment is forbidden. Possession is forbidden."_

_Ashlyn frowned. "What about compassion?"_

_"Compassion is central to a Jedi's life," Lena explained. "I guess you can say they're sort of encouraged to love, even though it's forbidden."_

"I'm so sorry," Ashlyn whispered.

Obi-Wan stepped back, away from her. "No, I am." He sighed. "I shouldn't have done that. It's against the—"

"The Jedi Code," she finished, nodding in understanding. It was against her own code too... even though she made it up seconds after her boyfriend passed away in her arms.

"I'm really sorry," she said again. "I-I don't know what came over me."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Ashlyn, I initiated—"

"But I continued, Obi-Wan." She exhaled tiredly. "Neither of us should have. You, for your code, and me, for—" she cut herself off, swallowing hard. Shaking her head, she repeated, "I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan stared at her, visibly battling with himself as his eyes displayed longing toward her, but his mind said otherwise. He knew it was wrong, not only because he was way older than her, but also because he barely knew her, she was visibly in pain— and not only physically speaking— and it was against the Jedi Code to get attached to someone, to love someone. But with Ashlyn, it was inevitable. She was simply hard to resist— like a unique magnet that could attract both positive and negative magnets to itself.

Obi-Wan was about to counter her apology but was cut off by another voice.

"Ashlyn?"

The pair blinked, then turned away from each other to look at the door, only for Obi-Wan to reach out and aid Ashlyn to steady herself when she stumbled backward and almost tripped on her own feet in shock.

It was the fifteen-year-old boy Obi-Wan had brought into the ship a while back. He was cleaned up but was still a bit dirty from the sand he'd fallen on. He was wearing a casual attire from the same world Ashlyn was from; his dark blond hair was messy and his bright blue eyes, though tired, were now sparkling with joy as they stared at the sixteen-year-old girl who was still, clearly, in shock.

"J-Jeremy?"

"Ashlyn!"

"Jeremy," the girl repeated as if to make sure he was really there, and she wasn't just hallucinating.

The boy nodded eagerly, then ran over to her and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. Ashlyn just stood there, hands to her sides, still trying to understand what was going on, still uncertain whether this was actually happening or not. Obi-Wan just stood there beside them, unsure what to make of the situation. Upon hearing the commotion, Qui-Gon and Padmé rushed into the Main Area as well, but stopped short at the scene before them and sent a questioning look toward Obi-Wan, but he simply shook his head in a way to say that he was just as confused as them.

"I can't believe it! You're alive!" the boy exclaimed.

Ashlyn instantly pulled away and gave him a disbelieving look. "When did you die?"

The boy looked at her and let out a nervous chuckle, causing the others, including Ashlyn, to raise an eyebrow at him. "Well... you see...." He trailed off but didn't even get the time to come up with something as Ashlyn yanked his head toward her and inspected every inch of it.

"Bruises, cuts..." she mumbled, turning his head slightly to the side. She let go of his face and poked one of his ribs, sure enough getting the result she expected; he winced.

"Damn it, Jer. I thought I told you to stop getting into fights," she grumbled, glaring at him.

He scoffed. "Yeah, a year ago," he mumbled.

Ashlyn frowned in confusion. "No, I've been here for, what? Five days? A week? It's been, at the very least, a week since I've told you that, Jeremy."

Jeremy shook his head. "It's been a year since the crash back at home, Ash. They've even already built this whole veterans foundation thing in Miss Ayden's honor up in CA. I think they called it the Gemini Foundation? I don't know, I just remember there was 'Gemini' and 'Foundation' somewhere in there..."

But Ashlyn wasn't listening to him anymore; she'd stopped paying attention after he told her that a year had already gone by since she'd passed away. How could that be if she'd barely spent half a week in this new reality?

She blinked in disbelief. "B-but that's impossible..."

"Ash, I'm fifteen now."

"And dead!"

"We're breathing!" he defended himself.

"You _died_ , Jeremy. _I died_ , that's how I got here. That means you're dead— what the heck is wrong with you?"

Someone cleared their throat, causing Jeremy and Ashlyn to look away from each other and toward that person. It was Qui-Gon.

Jeremy looked at curiously, eyes going from his long hair to his attire, all the way down to the belt around his waist, where was— 

"A lightsaber?" he mumbled. He looked back up at the man's face, recognition slowly coming to him. He shifted his gaze over to the man beside Ashlyn, then back to the older one.

His eyes widened.

Ashlyn's eyes widened when she realized what he was about to say soon.

"We're in Star Wars?! Cool!" 

Ashlyn face-palmed herself.

"What's Star Wars?" Anakin's voice came from the door, barely audible as it was low and thick with exhaustion.

They all turned to look at him, and Jeremy couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "Huh, he looks like a mini- _me_."

Obi-Wan turned to Ashlyn and cleared his throat. "Something else I wanted to mention to you— they're related," he said, motioning from Jeremy to Anakin.

Ashlyn gave him a baffled look. "What? No. What are you talking about?"

"This boy from your world—" He motioned toward Jeremy. "— and Anakin are brothers."

"I wouldn't go at being brothers just yet," Jeremy uttered awkwardly.

"That's impossible," Ashlyn supplied her denial. "Jeremy is _my_ cousin."

"Yeah... about that," Jeremy drawled out. "Found out soon after your accident that I was adopted. Wouldn't tell me who my real parents were, so I sorta lost it."

"And you let yourself fall within the depths of alcohol and gangs."

Jeremy blushed in embarrassment. "How did you know?"

"I didn't, you just confirmed it," Ashlyn deadpanned. She turned back to Obi-Wan, face hard. "How? Jeremy is like me— from a completely different universe."

"Yeah," Jeremy piped in. Anakin had walked over to them and was now standing in front of Jeremy and Ashlyn. "The whole being adopted thing ain't anything new to me, but how am I related to this kid?" He placed a hand on the little boy's shoulder. He paused for a moment, then glared at Obi-Wan. "And how do _you_ know about it?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "I was the one to bring you in and clear you from any future possible infections. I know it was wrong, but I took the liberty to analyze a blood sample of yours— you'd mumbled Ashlyn's name when we found you; I wanted to know what your relation to her was, and if you were anywhere near the possibility of falling into the dark side of the Force."

Ashlyn and Jeremy shared a look. "Okay, so we know how you know, but we still don't know how that's possible," said Ashlyn, the one she'd known her whole life as her cousin nodding in agreement.

"I am afraid that that is something I do not know." Obi-Wan looked over at his master.

"We would have to ask either Anakin's mother, or someone who knows of your world and family, but we are far from Tatooine, and there is no one besides you two on the second account," said Qui-Gon, letting out a small sigh. "We best leave this for another day and keep our minds set on our destination."

Everyone nodded in agreement. "I'll go get blankets for everyone," said Padmé.

Jeremy, who had been unknowingly staring at the younger girl for a moment, snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of her angelic voice, feeling his heart beat faster.

He cleared his throat and quickly spoke before she could leave, "I'll help you."

She looked over at him and, finally seeing him clearly from close-up, blushed. "O-okay."

That brought a small smile to Ashlyn's lips for a moment before she shifted her gaze down at Anakin, who was staring at her in awe. She smiled more brightly and leaned down to his height. "Why don't you go make sure Jar Jar doesn't get in their way and make a mess out of things?"

He nodded and went off after the pair, though his walk quickly turned into a sprint when they all heard a crash not far away and Jar Jar's voice booming apologies. The three people left in the room winced slightly at that.

"Spoke too soon," the girl muttered before turning to look at the two Jedi with a serious look on her face. "Does this whole mysterious ordeal have anything to do with the Force, by any chance?"

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon shared a look.

The Jedi Master finally sighed and responded, "The chance is grand, but, at the moment, we can only guess. We shall discuss this further more with the Council once we get to Coruscant."

Ashlyn's brows furrowed, but she nodded all the same before turning toward the exit.

That night, aboard the Queen's transport, Anakin sat shivering in a corner of the central chamber, trying to decide what he should do to get warm. Everyone else was asleep, and he had been asleep as well, but only for a short time, troubled by his dreams. He came awake to the silence and could not make himself move, paralyzed by more than simply the cold.

Jar Jar slept to one side, stretched out in a chair, head back, snoring loudly. Nothing kept the Gungan from sleeping. Or eating, for that matter. The boy smiled briefly. Artoo rested close by, upright and mostly silent, his lights blinking softly. Close by were the young handmaiden, Padmé, and the new Outlander, [Jeremy, who was sound asleep right beside her relaxed figure](https://urstyle.com/styles/1658441), both nearly cuddling into each other's warmth. Well, they sure have hit it off...

Anakin stared into the darkness, willing himself to move, to overcome his inertia. But his dreams haunted him still. He found himself thinking of his mother and home, and everything closed down inside. He missed her so much! He had thought it would get better once he was away, but it hadn't. Everything reminded him of her, and if he tried to close his eyes against those memories, he found her face waiting for him, suspended in the darkness of his thoughts, anxious and worn.

Tears came to his eyes, unbidden. Maybe he had made a mistake by coming. Maybe he should go home.

Except he couldn't now. Maybe not ever again.

A slim figure entered the room, and Anakin watched the light of a view-screen illuminate Ashlyn's soft face. Standing as if carved from stone; brown leather pants hugging her legs perfectly, coffee creme shirt clinging loosely to her upper body, her blood red leather jacket hanging open; she clicked on a recording and stood watching the replay of Sio Bibble's plea to Queen Amidala to come home, to save her people from starvation, to help them in their time of need. She watched it all the way through, then shut it off again and stood staring at nothing, her head bent and brows furrowed.

What was she doing?

Suddenly she seemed to sense him watching, and turned quickly toward where he crouched. Her beautiful face seemed tired and careworn as she approached and knelt beside him. He stiffened, trying desperately to stop from crying, but he couldn't hide either the tears or his shivering and was left huddled before her, revealed.

"Are you all right, Annie?" she asked him softly.

"It's very cold," he managed to whisper.

She cracked a smile as she removed her heavy jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders, tucking it about him.

"You're from a warm planet, Annie. Space is cold," she agreed.

Anakin nodded, pulling the jacket tighter. He brushed at his eyes. "You seem sad," he said.

If she saw the irony in his observation, she did not say so. "The Queen is worried," she started, her eyes drifting over to the 'handmaiden', gaze softening as they landed upon her and Jeremy. "Her people are suffering..." She swallowed hard. "Dying. She must convince the Senate to intervene, or else..." She trailed off, unwilling to speak the words. "Then Jeremy... and _they_ want me to be like them... I'm not sure what I want, even less what will happen," she finished, her voice distant, her eyes sliding away from his to fix on something else.

"I'm not sure what's going to happen to me, either," he admitted worriedly. "I don't know if I'll ever see—" He stopped, his throat tightening, the words fading away into silence. He took a deep breath, furrowed his brow, and reached into his pocket.

"Here," he said, "I made this for you. So you'd remember me. I carved it out of a japor snippet. Take it. It will bring you good fortune."

He handed her an intricately carved wooden pendant. She studied it a moment, face lowered in shadow, then slipped it around her neck.

"It's beautiful. But I don't need this to remember you." Her face lifted to his with a smile. "How could I forget my future husband?" she said, her voice slightly teasing. She looked down at the pendant, fingering it thoughtfully. "Many things will change when we reach Coruscant, Annie. My caring for you will not be one of them."

The boy nodded, swallowing. "I know. And I won't stop caring for you, either. Only, I miss—" His voice broke, and the tears sprang into his eyes once more.

"You miss your mother," the girl finished quietly.

Anakin nodded, wiping at his face, unable to speak a word as Ashlyn Cordell drew him against her and held him close, placing a gentle lingering kiss on his cheek.

They stayed like that, in silence, for a moment, Anakin in Ashlyn's arms, the girl caressing his hair and literally babying him the way she would've with her little brother, Bobbie. After a few minutes had passed, she pulled away and reached for another chain she had around her neck and pulled it off, handing it to him.

"Here."

He glanced down at the object in her hand and slowly reached for it, tilting his head to the side as his fingers touched the metallic material. He subconsciously furrowed his brows and squinted his eyes as he studied the small object; [it was a locket with silver tone and clear crystals that resembled diamonds and platinum embedded on its face. It raised a slightly floral filigree design that shimmered with Victorian-inspired details, string from a lovely black cord.](https://urstyle.com/shop/12588133) Curiously, he opened the locket necklace and blinked as letters caught his eyes. He understood the letters perfectly, but not the words.

"What does it say?" the nine-year-old asked, looking up at the beautiful sixteen-year-old girl sitting beside him.

"It says 'Por siempre y para siempre.' It's written in a language we call, in my world, Spanish. It means 'Forever and Always.' I want you to have it, that way you'll know I'll remember you forever," she paused.

"And always," Anakin finished with a grin.

"Exactly. Now sleep, kid. We got a long day tomorrow," Ashlyn said, getting up and going to lie on her own cot-like space in the Main Area, reaching for her Jedi robe and wrapping it around her form.

"Awe, but I don't want to," Anakin whined. "I'm not tired," he added, hooking the locket around his neck.

"Neither am I, kid. But falling asleep in the middle of a war isn't going to keep us alive," she replied with a soft chuckle.

"Fine," he said, pouting. He lied down and wrapped his arms around himself, shivering.

Ashlyn fought back a smile. "You're still cold, aren't you," she stated.

"Uh... maybe?"

Ashlyn chuckled and shook her head. "Come here, big boy," she said softly, opening her arms. Anakin scrambled out of his spot and ran into her arms. Smiling, she wrapped the robe and extra blanket she had over their bodies before wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close to keep him warm with not only the blanket but also the warmth of her own body.

"Goodnight, Ash," Anakin mumbled, now sleepy.

Ashlyn chuckled again and kissed his forehead. "Night, kid."


	8. Chapter Eight

With just one look, Ashlyn could tell that Coruscant was different from other planets in that world. So could Jeremy, and even Anakin. They'd been told how seasoned veterans were always amazed at how strange the planet looked from space, casting an odd silvery glow that suggested the reflection of sunlight off metal.

The impression was not misleading.

The days in which Coruscant could be viewed in any sort of natural state were dead and gone. The capital city was expanded to the point where it wrapped the entire planet. Forests, mountains, bodies of water, and natural formations had been covered over. The atmosphere was filtered through regulators and purified by scrubbers, and water was gathered and stored in massive artificial aquifers. Animals, birds, plants, and fish were nowhere in sight, so they were probably in museums or climate-controlled indoor preserves; Coruscant was a planet of skyscrapers, their gleaming metal towers stretching skyward as though an army of frozen giants blanketing the horizon in every direction.

"This place is like the whole Back to the Future Two scenario," Jeremy muttered as he, Ashlyn and Anakin stared at the city-planet in awe, searching for a break in the endless forest of buildings.

"Agreed," Ashlyn mumbled. The three of them glanced at Ric Olie in the pilot's seat, and Ric smiled.

"Coruscant, capital of the Republic, an entire planet evolved into one city." He winked. "A nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there."

"It's so huge!" the little blond boy breathed softly, his newfound brother nodding in agreement, sharing Ashlyn's stun; it was a big change going from cars rolling down the highway floor to speeders soaring through the air.

They dropped into a landfall traffic lane and cruised slowly through the maze of buildings, sliding along the magnetic guidance lines that directed airborne vehicles. Ric explained how it worked to Anakin, who listened with half an ear, his attention still held captive by the vastness of the cityscape. In the background, the Jedi moved silently. Jar Jar crouched to one side, peering over the console through the viewport, clearly terrified by what he was seeing. Anakin knew the Gungan must long for the familiarity of his swamp home, just as the boy was thinking how much better he liked the desert and the two 'outlanders' were thinking of their own world.

Ashlyn glanced over at her once cousin and gently nudged him with her shoulder. "You miss it, don't you?" she asked softly, referring to their world as she noticed the somewhat sad look on his face.

Jeremy tried to put on a brave face, but ended sighing in defeat; there was no lying to Ashlyn. "Yeah. It wasn't the best life... it wasn't much, but it was something. It... it was home."

Ashlyn gave him a small smile and wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, making him instinctively rest his head on her shoulder and her rest her cheek on the crown of his head. They stayed like that for a moment, in what looked more like a sibling gesture than a simple 'cousin-whom-I-found-out-wasn't-really-my-cousin' gesture.

"I miss it too," she mumbled, squeezing his shoulders a bit.

He pulled away a bit and looked at her. "Why do _you_ miss it?" he asked. It wasn't harsh or meant to be rude; it was merely a genuine curiosity.

She smiled a bit again. "As you said, it wasn't the best life. I didn't have it easy, but I had something." She looked down at him as he was a few inches shorter than her despite him being a year younger than her now instead of two. "I had you guys. You all kept me grounded, kept me going on... y'all were _my_ home."

The Queen's transport slowed now, edging its way out of the traffic lane, onto a landing dock that floated near a cluster of huge buildings. Anakin and Jeremy peered down doubtfully. They were several hundred stories up, hundreds and hundreds of meters in the air.

Tearing his gaze away, Jeremy swallowing hard. "Do you think we'll ever go back?"

Ashlyn was silent for a moment, then answered in a quiet tone for only Jeremy to hear. "I don't know. I mean... we both died there. Me coming back, alive, after a year or so, and you after God knows how long now... I don't think we'd be able to go back, even if we wanted to."

Jeremy furrowed his brows for a moment, thinking hard before shrugging in a slightly nonchalant way. "Oh, well, at least I'll get to be a Jedi!"

Ashlyn let out a small breathy laugh, giving him a look of disbelief. "Is that all you care about? Becoming a Jedi?"

Jeremy pursed his lips for a moment before shaking his head. "No," he started slowly. "It's cool, I mean, it's not every day you wake up with the new possibility of becoming a Jedi. And I know there are restraints... boundaries and all that comes with being a Jedi, but I know you'll be there for me along the way."

Ashlyn smiled down at him, arm still around his shoulders. "As long as you need me," she reassured him. Jeremy smiled at her, and they shared another warm embrace as the ship docked with a soft bump on the landing platform, its antigrav clamps locking in place.

The 'Queen' was waiting in the main corridor with her retinue of handmaidens, guards, and Captain Panaka.

Ashlyn rushed quickly over to Padmé, and told her in a low tone for only her to hear, "I will go with the Jedi for now, but I will meet you later in your quarters." Padmé looked at her with a genuinely innocent look, her eyes questioning, but Ashlyn looked it over. "Stay safe," she said in a soft yet firm tone.

She pulled back and looked over at the decoy, giving her a subtle nod. The latter turned to Qui-Gon and nodded, indicating that he should lead the way. Giving Ashlyn a quick smile, Anakin followed close on the heels of the Jedi Master as he moved to the hatchway.

The hatch slid open, the loading ramp lowered, and the two outlanders, the Jedi Knights, Anakin, and Jar Jar exited into the sunlight of Coruscant. Ashlyn felt that part of her that never had any difficulty adapting to new habitats take over her, the stress she had been previously feeling dissipating, though not with that strange feeling in the pit of her stomach that kept her alert. Jeremy could feel himself getting nervous, which was unusual for him as he only ever got nervous whenever he had a feeling that something bad was going to happen. 

But what could possibly go wrong here? 

They were perfectly protected with the Queen's security guards, the two Jedi Knights, and not to forget the larger security from where they were headed and the many more Jedi they were about to meet. Anakin spent the first few minutes concentrating on not being overwhelmed, which became even more difficult once he was outside the ship. He kept his eyes on the rampway, Ashlyn and Qui-Gon, not allowing himself to look around at first for fear he might walk right off into space.

Two men clothed in robes of office of the Republic Senate stood at the end of the ramp, flanked by a contingent of Republic guards. The Jedi approached the pair and bowed formally in greeting. Ashlyn, Jeremy, Anakin and Jar Jar were quick to do the same, though only the three humans knew who they were bowing to and why.

Now Queen Amidala appeared, dressed in her black and gold robes with the feathered headpiece lending height and flow to her movements as she descended the ramp. Her handmaidens surrounded her, wrapped in their cloaks of crimson, faces barely visible in the shadows of their drawn hoods. Captain Panaka and his complement of Naboo guards escorted them.

Amidala stopped before the two men who waited, eyes shifting to the man with the kindly face and anxious eyes. Senator Palpatine, the Queen's emissary to the Republic Senate, bowed in welcome, hands clasped in the folds of his blue-green robes. Ashlyn narrowed her eyes at the man, instinctively stepping closer to Jeremy in case he'd need protection and sneaking glances toward his apparent little brother to make sure he was alright; some part of her did not trust the man, amidst the kindness in his face.

"It is a great relief to see you alive and well, Your Majesty," he offered with a smile, straightening once more. "May I present Supreme Chancellor Valorum."

Valorum was a tall, silver-haired man of indeterminate age, neither young nor old in appearance, but something of each, his bearing and voice strong, but his face and startling blue eyes tired and worried.

"Welcome, Your Highness," he said, a faint smile working its way onto his stern features. "It is an honor to finally meet you in person. I must relay to you how distressed everyone is over the current situation on Naboo. I have called for a special session of the Senate so that you may present your request for relief."

The Queen held his gaze without moving even a fraction of a centimeter, tall and regal in her robes of office, white-painted face as still and cool as ice. "I am grateful for your concern, Chancellor," she said quietly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Anakin recognized [Ashlyn staring out at him from beneath the concealing hood of her brown Jedi robe](https://urstyle.com/styles/1658472). When he turned toward her, she gave him a small smile filled with a tad bit of childish mischief, followed by a wink, and he felt himself blush.

Palpatine had moved to the Queen's side and was indicating an air shuttle that was awaiting them. "There is a question of procedure, but I feel confident we can overcome it," he was saying, guiding her along the rampway, her handmaidens, Captain Panaka, and the Naboo guards in tow.

Ashlyn glanced back toward her once cousin and nodded her head in the direction the group was heading, motioning him to follow and look after his newfound little brother and the young Queen.

"I'll be right there with you, in a moment, okay? Just stay close to them," she told him.

Pouting slightly, Jeremy sighed and nodded, pulling Ashlyn into another warm embrace before making his way over to the little blond boy and the Gungan. Anakin started to follow as well, Jeremy on one side, and Jar Jar at the other, though he soon came to a stop as he saw that the Jedi Knight was still standing with Supreme Chancellor Valorum, Ashlyn flanking at his side with his apprentice.

She turned to Obi-Wan, calm and composed. "You're staying?" she asked quietly.

"I must speak with the Jedi Council immediately. The situation has become more complicated," Qui-Gon answered her question, looking at Valorum.

"I am coming with you." It was barely audible as she had only mumbled it, but she knew the two Jedi had heard her.

Anakin, from afar, glanced back questioningly at Qui-Gon, not certain where he and Jeremy were supposed to go. The Queen and her retinue slowed in response, and Amidala motioned for Anakin and the Gungan to join them, but not before sending an unreadable glance at Ashlyn who nodded, expression just as undecodeable. Anakin looked again at Qui-Gon, who nodded wordlessly, then glanced over at Ashlyn, who gave him an encouraging smile. She shifted the smile to Jeremy who only gave a small smile in return, nodding her worries away.

"Isn't she coming too?" Anakin asked, looking up at Jeremy.

The older boy gave him a small, lopsided grin, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, just not yet."

Moving into the air shuttle with the Queen, Jeremy, Anakin and Jar Jar settled quietly into place in the very back seat. Senator Palpatine glanced over his shoulder at them from the front, a look of skepticism crossing his face before he turned away again.

"Me not feelen too good 'bout being here, Annie," the Gungan whispered doubtfully. Anakin nodded and tightened his mouth determinedly, Jeremy narrowing his eyes at the old man as a knot formed in the pit of his stomach; something was up with that man.

They flew only a short distance to another cluster of buildings and another loading dock, this one clearly meant for shuttlecraft. There, they disembarked and were escorted by Palpatine to his quarters, a portion of which had been made ready for the Queen and her entourage. Jeremy, Anakin and Jar Jar were given a room and a chance to clean up and were left alone. After a time, they were collected by one of the handmaidens— not Padmé, Jeremy noted with disappointment— and escorted to a waiting room situated outside what appeared to be Palpatine's office.

"Wait here," the handmaiden instructed and disappeared back down the hallway.

The doors to the Senator's office were open, and the boy and the Gungan could see inside clearly. The Queen was present, dressed now in a gown of purple velvet, which was wrapped about her slim form in layers, the sleeves long and full, hanging gracefully from her slender arms. A fan-shaped crown with ornate beadwork and tassels rested upon her head. She was sitting in a chair, listening as Palpatine spoke to her. Her handmaidens stood to one side, crimson robes and hoods drawn close about them. Jeremy did not think either was Padmé. He wondered if he should try to find her instead of waiting here, but he did not know where to look.

The conversation within seemed decidedly one-sided, Senator Palpatine gesturing animatedly as he stalked the room, the Queen as still as stone. Anakin wished he could hear what was being said. He glanced at Jar Jar, and he could tell from the Gungan's restless eyes he was thinking the same thing.

When Captain Panaka walked past them and entered the room beyond, screening them from view for just a moment, Jeremy rose impulsively. Motioning for Anakin and Jar Jar to stay where they were, putting a finger to his lips in warning, he moved to one side of the doorway, pressing close. Through the crack between the open door and the jamb, he could just make out the voices of Palpatine and the Queen, muffled and indistinct.

Palpatine had stopped moving and was standing before the Queen, shaking his head. "The Republic is not what it once was. The Senate is full of greedy, squabbling delegates who are only looking out for themselves and their home systems. There is no interest in the common good— no civility, only politics." He sighed wearily. "I must be frank, Your Majesty. There is little chance the Senate will act on the invasion."

Amidala was silent a moment. "Chancellor Valorum seems to think there is hope," she said in her usual monotonous voice.

"If I may say so, Your Majesty," the Senator replied, his voice kind, but sad, "the chancellor has little real power. He is mired in baseless accusations of corruption. A manufactured scandal surrounds him. The bureaucrats are in charge now."

The Queen rose, standing tall and fixed before him. "What options have we, Senator?"

Palpatine seemed to think on the matter for a moment. "Our best choice would be to push for the election of a stronger Supreme Chancellor. One who will take control of the bureaucrats, and give us justice." He brushed back his thick hair, worrying his forehead with steeple fingers. "You could call for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum."

Amidala did not seem convinced. "Valorum has been our strongest supporter."

Palpatine stood before her. "Our only other choice would be to submit the matter to the courts—"

"There is no time for that," the Queen interrupted quickly, a hint of anger in her voice. "The courts take even longer to decide things than the Senate." She shifted purposefully, an edge sharpening her words further. "Our people are dying— more and more each day. We must do something quickly to stop the Federation before this gets any worse."

Palpatine gave Amidala a stern look. "To be realistic about the matter, Your Highness, I believe we are going to have to accept Federation control for the time being."

The Queen shook her head slowly. "That is something I cannot do, Senator."

They faced each other in the silence that followed, eyes locked, and Anakin Skywalker, hiding behind his brother who was listening in on the conversation through the door, found himself wondering suddenly what had become of the beautiful Ashlyn Cordell and the wise Qui-Gon Jinn.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Unlike other buildings in the vast sprawl of Coruscant, the Jedi Temple stood alone. A colossal pyramid with multiple spires rising skyward from its flat top, it sat apart from everything at the end of a broad promenade linking it with bulkier, sharper-edged towers in which solitude and mediation were less likely to be found. Ashlyn felt intimidated by the enormous building hovering over her, but, at the same time, the knowledge she had acquired from her best friend of it reassured her and made her feel safe; she knew that this Temple housed the Jedi Knights and their students, the whole of the order engaged in contemplation and study of the Force, in codification of its dictates and mastery of its disciplines, and in training to serve the greater good it embodied.

From the entrance, it was a long way to the room where they were to meet the council, and the further they went, the more nervous Ashlyn began to feel, and she did not like that feeling; it felt strange as she rarely felt so.

After turning down another hall in the labyrinth-like building, Ashlyn found herself stopping short when she felt that familiar tug in the pit of her stomach and a red light in the back of her head alerting her about danger coming her way. She wasn't looking where she was going anymore, and she wasn't even sure she was following the Jedi anymore. She was looking down at her feet as she resumed walking, and quickened her pace, though her thoughts were far away as she concentrated her hearing on her surroundings.

"You're hesitating," a voice startled her out of her thoughts.

Ashlyn looked up and found Qui-Gon staring down at her with knowing eyes. She glanced around and noticed Obi-Wan was gone. As though reading her mind, the Jedi Master told her he had sent the latter ahead.

She sighed, though, when she realized he was waiting for an answer to his silent question.

"I guess I'm just, now, realizing what I have to give up if I do become a Jedi... and frankly, I-I don't think I really want to become one, nor did I from the beginning."

"Ashlyn—"

But she shook her head, cutting him off. "Look, I _am_ hesitating, but that's mainly because of the weight my past has put upon my shoulders. I may seem impassive about it, but I'm not. Becoming a Jedi would mean I would have to push all that behind, and I'm not ready to do that. So, please, when you go in there, don't mention me. Just— not yet."

The Jedi Master contemplated her words, staring at her for a moment, before nodding. "Alright." He took a step toward the direction they were previously making their way to, but stopped when he noticed the young girl didn't come.

"I'll stay here, I need some time alone to think," she replied quietly before raising her voice a bit, adding with a small smirk, "And you should advise your Padawan to stop eavesdropping; it could get him killed someday for listening in on what he shouldn't have."

Startled from being caught, Obi-Wan nearly fell from where he hid behind a pillar. The young girl and the Jedi Master chuckled at the twenty-five-year-old Padawan.

The Jedi Council room dominated a central portion of the complex. The Council itself was in session, its doors closed, its proceedings hidden from the eyes and ears of all but fourteen people. Twelve of them— some human, some nonhuman— comprised the Council, a diverse and seasoned group who had gravitated to the order from both ends of the galaxy. The final two Jedi, who were guests of the Council this afternoon, were Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The seats of the twelve Council members formed a circle facing inward to where Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood, the former relating the events of the past few weeks, the latter a step behind his Master, listening attentively. The room was circular and domed, supported by graceful pillars spaced between broad windows open to the city and the light. The shape of the room and the Council seating reflected the Jedi belief in the equality of an interconnection between all things. In the world of the Jedi, the balance of life within the Force was the pathway to understanding and peace.

Qui-Gon studied the faces of his listeners as he spoke, each of them familiar to him. Most were Jedi Masters like himself, among them Yoda and Mace Windu, seniors in rank among those seated. They were more compliant in the ways of the Jedi order than he had ever been or would probably ever be. He stood apart in the mosaic circle that formed a speaker's platform for those who addressed the Council, his tall, broad form and deep voice commanding the attention of those gathered, his blue eyes fixing them each in turn, constantly searching for a reaction to his words. They watched him carefully, stately, Ki-Adi-Mundi, young and beautiful Adi Gallia, slender Depa Billaba, crested and marble-faced Even Piell, and all the others, each different and unique in appearance, each with something vital to offer as a representative of the Council.

Qui-Gon brought his eyes back to Mace Windu and Yoda, the ones he must convince, the ones most respected and powerful of those who sat in judgment.

"My conclusion," he finished quietly, his story completed, "is that the one who attacked _us_ on Tatooine is a Sith Lord." Ashlyn had clearly told him not to mention her, so he made sure to twist a few words in a way so he was not lying, nor was he revealing anything he'd been pleaded not to reveal.

The silence that followed was palpable. Then there was a stirring of brown robes, a shifting of bodies and limbs. Glances were exchanged, and murmurs of disbelief quickly voiced. Mace Windu held back a growl, leaning forward. He was a strong, dark-skinned man with a shaved head and penetrating eyes, smooth-faced despite his years.

"Impossible!" Ki-Adi-Mundi snapped irritably, not bothering to hide his dismay at the suggestion. "The Sith have been gone for a millennium!"

Yoda shifted only slightly in his chair, a small and wizened presence in the company of much larger beings, his eyes gone to slits like a contented sand panther's, his whiskery wrinkled face turned toward Qui-Gon's thoughtfully.

"Threatened, the Republic is, if the Sith are involved," he observed in his soft, gravelly voice.

The others began to mutter anew among themselves. Qui-Gon said nothing, waiting them out. They had believed the Sith destroyed. They had believed them consumed by their own lust for power. He could feel Obi-Wan shift uncomfortably at his shoulder, having trouble maintaining his silence.

Mace Windu leaned back heavily, his strong brow furrowing. "This is difficult to accept, Qui-Gon. I do not understand how the Sith could have returned without us knowing."

"Hard to see, the dark side is," Yoda said with a small snort. "Discover who this assassin is, we must."

"Perhaps he will reveal himself again," Ki-Adi-Mundi suggested with a nod to Qui-Gon.

"Yes," Mace Windu agreed. "This attack was with purpose, that much is clear. The Queen is his target. Since he failed once, he may try again."

Yoda lifted one skinny arm, pointing at Qui-Gon. "With this Naboo Queen, you must stay, Qui-Gon. Protect her, you must." 

The others murmured their approval, evidencing the confidence they felt in the Jedi Master's abilities. Still, Qui-Gon said nothing.

"We shall use all our resources to unravel this mystery and discover the identity of your attacker," Mace Windu advised. One hand lifted in dismissal. "May the Force be with you, Qui-Gon Jinn."

"May the Force be with you," Yoda echoed.

Obi-Wan turned to leave. He stopped when Qui-Gon did not follow, but instead remained standing before the Council. Obi-Wan held his breath, knowing what was coming. Yoda cocked his head questioningly. "More to say, have you, Qui-Gon Jinn?"

"With your permission, my Master," the Jedi replied, gaze steady. "I have encountered a vergence in the Force."

Yoda's eyes widened slightly. "A vergence, you say?"

"Located around a person?" Mace Windu asked quickly.

"Three," Obi-Wan found himself saying, internally face-palming himself as soon as the words escaped his lips. He bit his lip in frustration and shame, his face slightly reddening, as Qui-Gon gave him a hard look, while the other members of the Council furrowed their brows almost in sync; was Qui-Gon Jinn really going to keep that from them?

Qui-Gon turned back to the Council and nodded. _Well, there's no turning back now_. "Two boys and a girl," said the Jedi Master. "For the youngest, his cells have _one of_ the highest concentration of midi-chlorians I have ever seen in a life-form." He paused. "It is possible he was conceived by midi-chlorians."

There was a shocked silence this time. Qui-Gon Jinn was suggesting the impossible, that the boy was conceived not by human contact, but by the essence of all life, by the connectors to the Force itself, the midi-chlorians. Comprising collective consciousness and intelligence, the midi-chlorians formed the link between everything living and the Force.

But there was more that troubled the Jedi Council. There was a prophecy, so old its origins had long since been lost, that a chosen one would appear, imbued with an abundance of midi-chlorians, a being strong with the Force and destined to alter it forever. It was Mace Windu who gave voice to the Council's thoughts.

"You refer to the prophecy," he said quietly. "Of the one who will bring balance to the Force. You believe it is this boy."

Qui-Gon hesitated. "I don't presume _—_ "

"But you do!" Yoda snapped challengingly. "Revealed, your opinion is, Qui-Gon!"

The Jedi Master took a deep breath. "I request the boy be tested. "

Again, there was silence as the members of the Council exchanged glances, communicating without words.

Eyes shifted back to Qui-Gon. "To be trained as a Jedi, you request for him?" Yoda asked softly.

"Finding him was the will of the Force." Qui-Gon pressed ahead recklessly. "I do not doubt it. There is too much happening here for it to be anything else."

"And what of the other two?"

Again, Qui-Gon hesitated. "They are quite difficult to be figured out; not much can be learned from their background easily."

"And why is that?"

"They have been brought from a world _outside_ of our own."

Windu gave him a skeptical look. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"They told us they come from another universe. A vaguer version of the explanation they gave us was that they died in their world, before being transported into ours, landing both in Tatooine, which is where we met them. The girl's cells have _the_ highest concentration of midi-chlorians I believe to ever have seen in a life-form. The other boy, her cousin, his midi-chlorian concentration is in between hers and the youngest boy."

Mace Windu held up one hand, bringing the debate to a close. "Bring them before us, then."

Yoda nodded somberly, eyes closing. "Tested, they will be."

As they left the room, Obi-Wan couldn't stop himself from frowning. Didn't Ashlyn ask them not to mention her? He sighed. _Well, it was mostly **my** fault..._

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_

" _If it was raining, you would yell at the sun,_ " she sang softly under her breath, tracing her fingers across the verticals carvings in a pillar. " _Pick up the pieces when the damage is done._ " She frowned, looking down at her hands. " _You say it's just another day in the shade..._ " Her eyes shifted to the anciently detailed ceiling of the Temple. " _... but look at what a mess we made... You might be_ _crazy, have I told you lately that I—_ "

"Aww, you got yourself a haircut."

The muscles in her entire body seemed to lock within a second as she stood there, frozen in place, insides going cold, heart-stopping. Slowly, she turned around found herself almost fainting out of disbelief as her eyes fell upon someone she never thought she would ever see again. It was—

"Lena?"


	9. Chapter Nine

"Lena?"

[There she was, standing in a crouch on her board, hovering around five feet about the ground in the empty hallway of the Jedi Temple. But something was wrong about her. She didn't look like herself. She was paler than she'd ever been, her hair black as coal with fiery red strikes. Her eyes— they weren't the same bright crystal blue that had once shone with happiness. _No_. They were gold and filled with anger Ashlyn never thought possible for this girl to possess. She was dressed in a black belted jumpsuit, a wool-blend black coat hanging loosely over her thinned body, its hem whooshing backward, away from her legs, from the winds emitted from her very futuristic hoverboard.](https://urstyle.com/styles/1658473)

The pale faced girl with golden eyes gave her a malicious smirk. "Why, hello there, soon-to-be Jedi."

"You're alive?" Ashlyn choked out. She was happy Lena was standing right there in front of her, but the latter's appearance really brought little reassurance to her soul.

Lena rolled her eyes. "Who do think you're seeing then? Casper the _friendly_ ghost?" she retorted sarcastically.

Ashlyn's heart clenched as her eyes squinted with shock as they took in her best friend's appearance. "What have you done?" she whispered.

Lena giggled almost childishly. "Oh, I haven't done anything..." She smirked. " _Yet_."

Within less than a second, Ashlyn found herself being thrown back, the hoverboard crashing into her stomach as her back crashed onto a pillar.

"Lena? What the— what are you doing?"

Her smirk never wavered as she sneered, "What I should've done a long time ago."

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While the others waited without, Queen Amidala, accompanied by her handmaidens, retreated to her chambers long enough to change into yet another ensemble, this one clearly meant to emphasize her status as leader of the Naboo. She emerged wearing a broad-shouldered cloak of crimson velvet trimmed with gold-laced a crown of woven cloth horns and tassels with a center plate of hammered gold. The gown and headdress lent both size and majesty, and she walked past a wondering Jeremy, Anakin and Jar Jar as if come down out of the clouds to mix with mortals, all cool grace and extraordinary beauty, aloof and untouchable.

Eirtaé and Rabé, the handmaidens who had accompanied her earlier, were present again, and they trailed the Queen in a silent glide, wrapped in their crimson hooded robes. Again Jeremy looked for Padmé and did not find her.

"Please lead the way," Amidala requested of Palpatine, beckoning the boys, the Gungan, and Captain Panaka to accompany them.

They walked from Palpatine's quarters down a series of corridors that connected to other chambers and, eventually, to other buildings. The halls were empty of almost everyone, save for a scattering of Republic guards, and the company proceeded unchallenged. Jeremy and Anakin glanced around in awe at the tall ceilings and high windows, at the forest of buildings visible without, imagining what it would be like to live in a place like Coruscant.

When they reached the Senate chamber, they had cause to wonder anew.

The chamber had the look of an arena, circular and massive, with doors opening off exterior rampways at various levels above the main floor. At the center of the chamber a tall, slender column supported the supreme chancellor's platform, a broad, semi-enclosed area that allowed Valorum, who was already present, to sit or stand as he chose in the company of his vice chair and staff. All around the smooth interior walls of the arena, Senate boxes jutted from hangar bays off entry doors, some fixed in place while their senators conferred with staff and visitors, others floating just off their moorings. When a senator requested permission to speak and was recognized by the chair, his box would float to the center of the arena, close to the supreme chancellor's podium, where it remained until the speech was concluded.

Jeremy picked up on all this in a matter of seconds, and so did Anakin, both trailing the Queen and Palpatine to the entry doors opening onto the Naboo Senate box, which sat waiting at its docking. Banners and curtains hung from the rounded ceiling in brilliant streamers, and indirect lighting glowed softly from every corner, brightening the rotunda's cavernous interior. Droids bustled along the exterior rampways, carrying messages from one delegation to the next, the movement of their metal bodies giving the chamber the look of a complex piece of machinery.

"If the Federation moves to defer the motion, Your Majesty," Senator Palpatine was saying to the Queen, his head bent close, his voice low and insistent, "I beg of you to ask for a resolution to end this session and call for the election of a new supreme chancellor."

Amidala did not look at him, continuing to advance toward the Naboo box. "I wish I had your confidence in this proposal, Senator," she replied quietly.

"You must force a new election for supreme chancellor," Palpatine pressed. "I promise you there are many who will support us. It is our best chance." He glanced toward the podium and Valorum. "Our only chance."

A murmur had risen from the assembled as they caught sight of Amidala standing at the entry to the Naboo box, robes of office flowing out behind her, head erect, face calm. If she heard the change in tenor of the level of conversation around her, she gave no sign. Her eyes shifted momentarily to Palpatine.

"You truly believe Chancellor Valorum will not bring our motion to a vote?" she asked quietly.

Palpatine shook his head, his high brow furrowing. "He is distracted. He is afraid. He will be of no help."

Rabé handed a small metal view-screen to Jeremy, Anakin and Jar Jar and motioned for them to wait where they were. Stepping into the Senate box with Palpatine, Amidala was joined by her handmaidens and Panaka. Jeremy was disappointed at not being included, but grateful when he discovered that the view-screen Rabé had provided allowed him to see and hear what was happening in the Naboo box.

"She's going to ask the Senate for help, isn't she?" Anakin whispered, leaning over excitedly. Jeremy only frowned. "What do you think?"

The Gungan wrinkled up his billed mouth and shook his floppy-eared head. "Me think dis bombad, Annie. Too many peoples to be agreeing on da one thing."

"I gotta agree with you, Jar Jar," Jeremy mumbled. "Something about this doesn't seem right."

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The raven haired girl threw something heavy and thin, yet long at Ashlyn, causing the latter to give her a confused look.

"Why are you giving me this?"

"Well, it's no fun to kill without a fight. And what better way than to fight the old fashioned way," the young Sith replied smoothly, unsheathing a katana.

Ashlyn frowned, as she stumbled onto her feet. "What? No, Lena, I'm not gonna fight you."

Lena's golden eyes squinted slightly. "Then have fun surviving this."

"Wha—"

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The Naboo box detached from its docking and floated a short distance toward the supreme chancellor's podium, waiting for permission to advance all the way. Palpatine, Amidala, and the rest of the occupants were seated now, facing forward.

Valorum nodded his short-cropped white head in the direction of Palpatine. "The chair recognizes the senator from the sovereign system of Naboo."

The Naboo box glided to the center of the arena, and Palpatine rose to his feet, taking in the assemblage with a slow sweeping gaze that drew all eyes toward his.

"Supreme Chancellor, delegates of the Senate," his voice boomed, quieting the chamber. "A tragedy has occurred on my homeworld of Naboo. We have become caught up in a dispute, one of which you are all well aware. It began with a taxation of trade routes and has evolved into an oppressive and lawless occupation of a peaceful world. The Trade Federation bears responsibility for this injustice and must be made to answer..."

A second box was rushing forward by now, this one bearing the markings of the Trade Federation and occupied by the Federation's senator, Lott Dod, and a handful of trade barons in attendance.

"This is outrageous!" the Trade Federation senator thundered, gesturing toward the podium and Valorum.

A lean, wizened Neimoidian, he loomed out of the low-railed box like a willow tree. "I object to Senator Palpatine's ridiculous assertions and ask that he be silenced at once!"

Valorum's white head swiveled briefly in Lott Dod's direction and one hand lifted. "The chair does not recognize the senator from the Trade Federation at this time." The supreme chancellor's voice was soft, but steady. "Return to your station."

Lott Dod looked as if he might say something more, but then he lowered himself back into his seat as his box slowly retreated.

"To state our allegations in full," Palpatine continued, "I present Queen Amidala, the recently elected ruler of the Naboo, to speak on our behalf."

He stepped aside, and Amidala rose to a light scattering of applause. Moving to the front of the box, she faced Valorum. "Honorable representatives of the Republic, distinguished delegates, and Supreme Chancellor Valorum. I come to you under the gravest of circumstances. In repudiation and violation of the laws of the Republic, the Naboo have been invaded and subjugated by force by droid armies of the Trade Federation—"

Lott Dod was on his feet again, voice raised angrily. "I object! This is nonsense! Where is the proof?" He did not wait for recognition as he turned to the chamber at large. "I recommend a commission be sent to Naboo to ascertain the truth of these allegations. "

Valorum shook his head. "Overruled."

Lott Dod sighed heavily and threw up his hands as if with that single word his life had become hopeless. "Your Honor, you cannot allow us to be condemned without granting our request for an impartial observation. It is against all the rules of procedure!"

He scanned the chamber for help, and there was a murmur of agreement from the delegates. A third box glided forward to join those of Naboo and the Trade Federation. The chair recognized Aks Moe, the senator from the planet of Malastare.

Stocky and slow moving, his three eyestalks waving gently, Aks Moe put the thick, heavy pads of his hands on his hips. "The senator from Malastare concurs with the honorable delegate from the Trade Federation." His voice was thick and gnarly. "A commission, once requested, must be appointed, where there is a dispute of the sort we have encountered here. It is the law."

Valorum hesitated. "The point is..."

He trailed off uncertainly, left the sentence unfinished, and turned to confer with his vice chair, identified on the printed register as Mas Amedda. Amedda was of a species Anakin, even less Jeremy, had never encountered, human in form, but with a head swollen by a pillow of cushioning tissue narrowing into a pair of tentacles that drooped over either shoulder and feelers that jutted from above the forehead. Together with their aides, the chair and vice chair engaged in a hurried discussion. Jeremy, Anakin and Jar Jar exchanged worried glances as Palpatine's voice reached them through the hand-held view-screen's tiny speaker.

"Enter the bureaucrats, the true rulers of the Republic, and on the payroll of the Trade Federation, I might add," he was whispering to the Queen. Jeremy and Anakin could see their heads bent close. Palpatine's tone was heavy. "This is where Chancellor Valorum's strength will disappear."

Valorum had moved back to the podium, a worn look on his face. "The point is conceded. Section 523A takes precedence here." He nodded in the direction of the Naboo box. "Queen Amidala of the Naboo, will you defer your motion in order to allow a Senate commission to explore the validity of your accusations?"

The young male outlander could see the Queen stiffen in surprise, and when she spoke, her voice was edged with anger and determination. "I will not defer," she declared, eyes locked on Valorum. "I have come before you to resolve this attack on Naboo sovereignty now. I was not elected Queen to watch my people suffer and die while you discuss this invasion in committee. If the chancellor is not capable of action, I suggest new leadership is needed." She paused. "I move for a vote of no confidence in the supreme chancellor."

Voices rose immediately in response, some in support, some in protest. Senators and spectators alike came to their feet, loud mutterings quickly building to shouts that echoed through the cavernous chamber. Valorum stood speechless at the podium, stunned and disbelieving. He stared at Amidala, his face etched in sudden shock as the impact of her words registered. Amidala faced him boldly, waiting.

Mas Amedda moved in front of Valorum, taking charge of the podium. "Order!" he bellowed, his strange head swelling. "We shall have order!"

The assembly quieted then, and the delegates reseated themselves, responding to Amedda's command. Anakin noted that the Trade Federation box had maneuvered into position close beside the Naboo box.

Lott Dod exchanged a quick glance with Palpatine, but neither spoke. A new bx floated to the center of the chamber, and the vice chair recognized Edcel Bar Gan, the senator from Roona. "Roona seconds the motion for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorus," Bar Gan intoned in a sibilant voice.

Mas Amedda did not look pleased. "The motion has been seconded."

He turned now to Valorum, speaking quickly to him, keeping his voice low and his words hidden behind his hand. Valorum looked at him uncomprehendingly, eyes distant and lost.

"There must be no delays," Aks Moe of Malastare declared in a loud voice, drawing Mas Amedda's attention back to him. "The motion is on the floor and must be voted on at once."

Lott Dod was back on his feet. "I move the motion be sent to the procedures committee for further study-"

The Republic Senate erupted anew, chanting loudly, "Vote now! Vote now!" Mas Amedda was deep in discussion with Supreme Chancellor Valorum, hands on his shoulders as if to bring him back from wherever he'd gone by sheer force of determination.

"You see, Your Majesty, the tide is with us," Jeremy heard Palpatine announce quietly to the Queen. The boy's eyes dropped to the view-screen. "Valorum will be voted out, I assure you, and they will elect a new chancellor, a strong chancellor, one who will not let our tragedy be ignored..."

Mas Amedda was back at the podium, addressing the chamber. "The supreme chancellor requests a recess."

Shouts rose from the delegates, echoing across the chamber in waves as Valorum stared at Senator Palpatine and Queen Amidala, and even from where they both stood watching now at the entry doors to the Naboo box, Jeremy Cordell and Anakin Skywalker could discern the look of betrayal registered on the supreme chancellor's anguished face.

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_Clang!_

The two of them stood in one place, trading feints, thrusts and parries; by now, both of them were cut and bloodied.  
  
"Maul wasn't lying." Lena chuckled. "You're a bit rusty, but you still know what you're doing, I'll give you that," she said. "Still _perfect_ as always... hm, let's see if I can unbalance you... One step here—" She took a step around an imaginary circle. Ashlyn stepped the other way. "Still great! And if I step again, you step again—" Continuing to step around the circle, she said, "And you're slowing, and you're losing your touch as we circle, and circle, and circle..."

Ashlyn was angry now.

"Alright, that's it. You wanna fight?" She jumped away from her. "Fine, we'll fight." She threw aside the katana Lena had given her. "But we're in a Jedi Temple, so why don't we do it the way it's done here? You did always say you wanted to fight with a laser sword one day."

Lena faltered, her eyes flashing their old crystal blue color and softened slightly, for barely a second, before turning gold once more and hardening, a smirk growing on her face as she sheathed her katana.

"Now, that's what I'm talking about."

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It hadn't even been an hour later since they'd left the Senate chamber, when Anakin burst through the open doors of the Queen's antechamber in search of Ashlyn, whom he had yet to see since they landed on the strange planet, and found himself face-to-face with Amidala instead. The Queen was standing alone in the center of the room, her eyes directed toward him, her robed form radiant and solitary.

"Excuse me," Anakin said quickly. "Your Majesty." She nodded silently, white face smooth and perfect.

"Um... I was looking for Ashlyn." He cleared his throat, "And Padmé," he quickly added, standing rooted in place just inside the doorway, undecided on whether to stay or go. He glanced around doubtfully. "Qui-Gon says he will take me and Jeremy before the Jedi Council now. We wanted them to know."

A small smile flitted across the Queen's painted lips. "Padmé isn't here right now, Anakin. I sent her on an errand. And Ashlyn... well, she hasn't presented herself here, yet."

"Oh," he said quietly.

"But I will give them your message."

The boy grinned. "Maybe I will become a Jedi Knight!" he exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement.

Amidala nodded. "Maybe you will."

"I think Ashlyn would like that." He then blushed, realizing what he just blurted out.

But Amidala was simply amused. "I think she would, too."

Anakin backed away. "I didn't mean to..." He searched for the word and couldn't find it.

"Good luck, Anakin," the Queen said softly. "Do well."

He wheeled away with a broad smile and was out the door.

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"Magdalena! This has to stop!" Ashlyn exclaimed as she dodged, yet again, another blow.

"Why? You getting tired?" the Sith sneered.

"A little," she growled with a sarcastic edge to her tone as she kicked at her. Ashlyn gasped when she felt Lena's purple blade slice through her skin again.

"By the way, it's Lady Fackel," replied the raven haired girl, lunging forward.

"Yeah, you're a real torch," Ashlyn replied with a edge of sarcasm in her tone. "Now how 'bout we end this without killing each other?"

"Unfortunately for you, that's not how its going to be."

Ashlyn froze for a moment, and for that moment, the Sith did not attack as she expected her to. "You want to kill me," she said.

The Sith smirked, golden eyes gleaming yellow and red. "I died for you; now you die by— _for_ me. We'll be squared."

Before Ashlyn could add anything, the fight reengaged. Ashlyn took a step backwards, then swung a death blow with her blue lightsaber, though Lady Fackel was quick to block the attack. The two female fighters bashed each other with incredible blows. They moved in a continual cloud of dust, smashing everything around them.

Apart from the karate classes Ashlyn had taken, she also had attended fencing classes with Lena. Ashlyn had always been better than her at most physical activities, though fencing was something they were rather equal... well, almost. Ashlyn was also better at fencing than Lena.

However, at that moment in time, the battle between the two best friends turned foes— or so was the case in Lena's eyes... this battle was a fierce one. Whenever the two girls practiced their fencing, it usually ended with both of them calling a truce as they knew neither would win without hurting each other severely. But now, Lena was taking all her rage about something Ashlyn did not know on her in the battle, and Ashlyn was fighting to survive.

This was, indeed, the fiercest fight they'd ever had.

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The day passed quickly for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, and sunset found them standing together on a balcony outside the Jedi Temple overlooking Coruscant. Neither had said anything to the other for some time. They had collected the youngest Cordell and the youngest Skywalker from Senator Palpatine's quarters following their return from the Republic Senate and brought them before the Council for examination. They hadn't found Ashlyn, but they knew the Council would not wait any longer, so they left her be for the time being— wherever she was— and awaited a decision.

As far as Obi-Wan was concerned, it was a foregone conclusion. The young Jedi was frustrated and embarrassed for his Master, who had clearly overstepped his bounds once again. Qui-Gon had been right in his suspicion that the three youngling were possessed of inordinately high midi-chlorian counts. Obi-Wan had run the tests himself. But that alone was not enough to demonstrate Anakin was the chosen one. If there even was such a one, which Obi-Wan seriously doubted. But then again, though it would be a bit hard to believe that Ashlyn and Jeremy are the chosen from the other prophecy.... well, they actually did fill their papers, Ashlyn being from another universe being the emphasis and Jeremy being born in the current world, but growing in Ashlyn's too.

However, there were hundreds of these old prophecies and legends, handed down through the centuries as a part of Jedi lore. In any case, Qui-Gon was relying on instinct once again, and instinct was useful only if born of the Force and not of emotion. Qui-Gon was insistent on championing the causes of underdogs, of empathizing with creatures he found in some peculiar, inscrutable way he alone could comprehend significant in the scheme of things. Obi-Wan studied his mentor surreptitiously.

Why did he insist on pursuing these hopeless causes?

The Council might find the boys, and Ashlyn (if she were to come), possessed of more midi-chlorians than normal, but they would never accept the trio for Jedi training. The rules were clear and established, and the reasons supporting them were proven and unassailable. Training for the order after more than a year of life was doomed to fail. At nine years of age, Anakin Skywalker was simply too old, and worst was for Jeremy, who was fifteen, and Ashlyn, who was sixteen. But Qui-Gon would not let it go. He would brace the Council once again, and the result would be the same as it had been on so many other occasions Qui-Gon would be denied and his stature as a Jedi Master would fall a little further.

Obi-Wan moved to where the older Jedi stood staring out at the endless horizon of skyscrapers. He stood close to him, silent for a moment longer before speaking. "They will not pass the Council's tests, Master," he said softly, "and you know it. They're far too old, especially Ashlyn."

Qui-Gon kept his gaze directed toward the sunset. "Those three will become Jedi, I promise you."

Obi-Wan sighed wearily. "Don't defy the Council, Master. Not again."

The older man seemed to go very still, perhaps even to stop breathing, before he turned to his protege. "I will do what I must, Obi-Wan. Would you have me be any other way?"

"Master, you could be sitting on the Council by now if you would just follow the code. You deserve to be sitting on the Council." Obi-Wan's frustration surfaced in a burst of momentary anger. His eyes sought the other's and held them. "They will not go along with you this time."

Qui-Gon Jinn studied him a moment, then smiled. "You still have much to learn, my young Padawan." Obi-Wan bit off his reply and looked away, thinking to himself that Qui-Gon was right, but that maybe this time he should consider taking his own advice.

Inside, the recently reunited brothers faced the Jedi Council, standing in the same place Qui-Gon had stood some hours earlier. They were both nervous at first, brought into the chamber by Qui-Gon, then left alone with the twelve members of the Council. Standing in the mosaic circle and ringed by the silent assemblage, awestruck and uncertain of what was expected of them, they felt vulnerable and exposed.

This was all new to Anakin— he'd grown up a slave, after all.

Jeremy was more or less a bit more prepared for what was coming as he actually knew more than Anakin when it came to certain things about the universe he found himself fallen into. He knew many things. However, not much of those things were going to help him in any way at that moment in time as he had never really been into the story, like Ashlyn. He knew a few things he'd read off the internet and some other things his friends would tell him, even things he would hear from Lena whenever he spent time with Ashlyn and she happened to be around. But his knowledge was nothing but a trailer; he never saw the actual movies or read the books. He played of few demos in his computer and playstation, but that was it. He knew nothing about the actual training one had to undergo to become a Jedi— he didn't even know their was a trial before becoming a Jedi apprentice, and that made him nervous to the beyond as he stood beside his little brother, in front of the Council who was to judge whether they could start being training to become warriors like them or not.

The eyes of the Jedi were distant as they viewed him and Anakin, but he sensed they were looking not past them, but inside. They began to question the boys then, without preliminary introductions or explanations, without expending any effort at all to make them feel comfortable or welcome. They both knew some of them by name, for Qui-Gon had described a few, and they was quick to put faces to names. They questioned the younglings at great length, testing memory and knowledge, seeking insights at which they could only guess. They knew of Anakin's existence as a slave. They knew of his background on Tatooine, of his mother and his friends, of his Podracing, of Watto, of everything factual and past, of the order of his life. Now Mace Windu was looking at a screen the boy could not see, and Anakin was giving names to images that flashed across its liquid surface. Images appeared in Anakin's mind with such speed he was reminded of the strange blur of desert and mountains whipping past his cockpit during a Podrace.

"A bantha. A hyperdrive. A proton blaster." The images whizzed through his mind as he named them off. "A Republic cruiser. A Rodian cup. A Hutt speeder."

The screen went blank, and Mace looked up, at the boys.

"Good, good, young one," the wizened alien called Yoda praised. The sleepy eyes fixed on them, intent behind their lids. "How feel you?"

"Cold, sir," Jeremy blurted out, mentally kicking himself for the stupid reply.

"Afraid, are you?"

They shared a look before shaking their head. "No, sir."

"Afraid to give up your life?" the dark one called Mace Windu asked, leaning forward slightly.

" _You_ ** _died_** _, Jeremy._ _I **died**_ _, that's how I got here..._ "

Jeremy winced slightly, but did not reply yet.

"I don't think so," Anakin answered, then hesitated. Something about the answer didn't feel right.

Yoda blinked and his long ears cocked forward. "See through you, we can," he said quietly, though his eyes lingered on Jeremy, who held an equally blank face.

"Be mindful of your feelings," Mace Windu said, he too drawling his gaze on the older boy.

"I've done it before," he finally answered without blinking. He had. It had been painful, but there was nothing he could do about it now. It was part of the past and he had to let that go.

The old one called Ki-Adi-Mundi stroked his beard, looking at him for a moment before turning his gaze to the young Skywalker. "Your thoughts dwell on your mother."

Anakin felt his stomach lurch at the mention of her. He bit his lip. "I miss her."

Yoda exchanged glances with several others on the Council. "Afraid to lose her, I think."

Anakin flushed. "What's that got to do with anything?" he asked defensively, his hands clenching into fists.

Jeremy placed a hand on his shoulder; a silent way of telling him to calm down. Anakin couldn't help but feel surprised; since he'd met the whole gang, he had found that apart from Qui-Gon, who was a natural gentle persona— Ashlyn was the only one who could keep him calm, and so with just her presence. Now, Jeremy had that strange ability to calm him down as well; perhaps so was because they were siblings.

Yoda's sleepy eyes fixed on him. "Everything. To the dark side, fear leads. To anger and to hate. To suffering."

"I am not afraid!" the boy snapped irritably, anxious to leave this discussion and move on.

Yoda did not seem to hear him. "The deepest commitment, a Jedi must have. The most serious mind. Much fear in you, I sense, young one."

Anakin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When he spoke, his voice was calm again. "I am not afraid."

Yoda studied him a moment. "Then continue, we will," he said softly, and the examination resumed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jar Jar and Queen Amidala stood together at a window that ran floor to ceiling in the Queen's chambers, looking out at the gleaming spires of Coruscant. An odd pairing at best, the Queen regal and composed, the Gungan awkward and jittery, they kept company in silence and watched the sunset color the sky a brilliant gold that reflected here and there off the flat metal and glass surfaces of the city in sudden, blinding explosions of light.

They had returned from the Republic Senate some hours ago, Jar Jar, Jeremy, Anakin, the Queen, and her handmaidens. They had come back principally because there seemed to be nothing else they could do to change the course of events regarding the future of Naboo. Senator Palpatine had stayed behind to politick with his colleagues over the selection of a new supreme chancellor, and Captain Panaka had remained with him, asked by the Queen to bring her news when there was any to offer. None had been forthcoming as yet. Now Ashlyn was who knows where, while Anakin and Jeremy were gone, taken by Qui-Gon to the Jedi Temple where they were to meet with the Council, and no one had seen Padmé in some time.

So Jar Jar had rattled around in Palpatine's quarters rather like a stray kaadu until Amidala had taken pity on him and invited him to sit with her. She had gone into seclusion on her return, changing out of her Senate robes into a less imposing goldtrimmed black gown that emphasized how slender and small she really was. She wore an inverted, crescent-shaped crown with a beaded gold medallion arced down over her smooth forehead, but even so she stood several centimeters shorter than the Gungan.

She was clearly in pain, her eyes so sad and distant that it made Jar Jar want to comfort her. If it had been Annie, Ashlyn, Jeremy or Padmé, he might have reached over and patted her on the head, but he was not about to try that with the Queen. There were no guards, but her handmaidens, Eirtaé and Rabé, cloaked in their crimson hooded robes and forever watchful, stood in waiting near the door, and he was certain there were guards somewhere close as well. He was careless of many things, oblivious to others, and in general given over to enjoying life in a haphazard way, but he was no fool.

Finally, though, he could ignore the situation no longer. He shuffled his feet and cleared his throat, drawing the Queen's attention. She turned, her white-painted face with red dots on each cheek and a red slash in the center of her lower lip doll-like and expressionless.

"Me wonder sometimes why da Guds invent pain," he offered sympathetically.

Amidala's cool gaze was steady and clear. "To motivate us, I imagine."

"Yous think yous people gonna die?" he asked, working his billed mouth around the bitter words as if he could taste them.

The Queen considered the question and shook her head slowly. "I don't know, Jar Jar."

"Gungans gonna get pasted, too, eh?"

"I hope not."

Jar Jar straightened, and a fierce pride brightened his eyes. "Gungans no die without a fight. We warriors! We gotta grand army!"

"An army?" she repeated, a hint of surprise in her soft voice.

"A grand army! Lotta Gungans. Dey come from all over. Dat why no swamp beings give us trubble. Too many Gungans. Gotta big energy shields, too. Nutten get through. Gotta energy balls, fly outta slings and splat electricity and goo. Bombad stuff. Gungans no ever give up to maccaneks or anyone!" He paused, shrugged uncomfortably. "Dat why Naboo no like us, mebbe."

She was studying him closely now, her detached gaze replaced by something more intense, as if she were turning an unexpected thought over in her mind. She was preparing to speak to that thought, he believed, when Senator Palpatine and Captain Panaka strode through the doorway in a rush.

"Your Highness," Captain Panaka greeted, barely able to contain his excitement as both men bowed quickly and straightened. "Senator Palpatine has been nominated to succeed Valorum as supreme chancellor!"

Palpatine's smile was contained and deferential, and his voice carefully modulated as he spoke. "A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one. I promise, Your Majesty, if I am elected, I will restore democracy to the Republic. I will put an end to the corruption that has plagued the Senate. The Trade Federation will lose its influence over the bureaucrats, and our people will be freed from the tyranny of this unlawful and onerous invasion—"

"Who else has been nominated?" Amidala asked abruptly, cutting him short.

"Bail Antilles of Alderaan and Aks Moe of Malastare," Panaka told her, avoiding Palpatine's eyes.

The senator was quick to recover from the unexpected interruption of his speech. "Your Majesty, I feel confident that our situation will generate strong support for us when the voting takes place tomorrow." He paused meaningfully. "I will be chancellor, I promise you."

The Queen did not look impressed. She moved past Jar Jar to the window and stared out at the lights of the city as they brightened with the fading of the sunset. "I fear by the time you have taken control of the bureaucrats, Senator, there will be nothing left of our cities, our people, or our way of life to salvage."

Palpatine looked taken aback. "I understand your concern, Your Majesty. Unfortunately, the Federation has seized possession of our planet. It will be nearly impossible to immediately dislodge them."

"Perhaps." Amidala turned from the window to face him. Her eyes were bright with anger and determination. "With the Senate in transition, there is nothing more I can do here." She walked to where he stood with Panaka. "Senator, this is your arena. I must return now to mine. I have decided to go back to Naboo. My place is with my people."

"Go back!" Palpatine was aghast, his pale face stricken. Panaka looked quickly from one to the other. "But, Your Majesty, be realistic! You will be in great danger! They will force you to sign the treaty!"

The Queen was calm and composed. "I will sign no treaty. My fate will be no different from that of my people." She turned to Panaka. "Captain!" Panaka snapped to attention. "Yes, Your Highness?"

"Ready my ship."

Palpatine stepped forward quickly to intercept her. "Please, Your Majesty. Stay here, where it is safe."

Amidala's voice was edged with iron. "No place is safe, if the Senate doesn't condemn this invasion. It is clear to me now that the Republic no longer functions." Her eyes locked on his. "If you win the election, Senator, I know you will do everything possible to stop the Federation. I pray you will find a way to restore sanity and compassion to the Republic."

She moved past him in a smooth, gliding motion and was out the door, her handmaidens and Panaka at her heels. Jar Jar followed, shuffling after as unobtrusively as he could manage, glancing just once at Palpatine in passing.

He was surprised to catch the barest glimpse of a smile on the senator's shrewd face.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The reason the boys' trial had ended rather quickly was mainly because the Jedi Council had made their decision far before they questioned them; the boys would not be trained to become Jedi themselves. However, thus was not the only reason; they had all felt a sudden wound in the Force— a disturbance inside the Temple.

While the Queen and her guards and handmaidens were making their way towards their ship, Qui-Gon found himself rushing through the halls of the Jedi Temple with not only his Padawan and the two younglings at his heels, but also the twelve members of the Council. They neared the area Qui-Gon recognized rather well; it was near the spot he and his apprentice had left Ashlyn to herself a while earlier.

As they all neared the disturbance they felt nearby, a few other Jedi passing by joining them, they heard a faint clashing of lightsabers which became louder the closer they got, along with a few faint grunts and shouts pertaining to a conversation.

They rounded the corner and there, they could see the sixteen year-old girl now, engaged in battle with a raven haired Sith girl who looked to be around the same age as her. Most Jedi brought out their weapons on instinct and readied themselves to intervene. However, Yoda and Mace Windu stopped them.

"Holy shit," Jeremy muttered as he recognized his cousin's opponent. "Lena?!"

"You know her?" Anakin whispered.

The older boy nodded, but did not take his eyes away from the battle. It was one thing controlling a character, in a video game, whose name you never bothered to learn until the end of the game. Then, it was cool. But this... this real life battle, between his cousin who was visibly fighting for her life, and his cousin's best friend who, for some strange reason, seemed to be aiming to kill her— this was scary. They all watched with hard looks— Jeremy and Anakin more frightened— as the battle went on without an acknowledgment of their presence.

The combatants surged back and forth across the flats, lightsabers flashing brightly with each blow struck, fallen debris of stricken pillars swirling in all directions. Ashlyn's short raven hair streamed out behind her in sharp contrast to the reddening hair of her adversary as it slowly undid itself from the small braid she had barely managed to make.

Their battle slowed then quickened, but did not stop. They leaped over one another in an incredible display of acrobatics, though at one point, through the leaping, few of Lena's strikes were quite successful, one cutting through Ashlyn's abdomen, slicing through her stitches.

The spectators, still holding their guard up, watched the battle, following the pair as they began to drag the fight further out of the Temple, toward the balconies that opened out into a more vast area of the city. Into empty air only occupied by speeders.

Managing to knock the purple saber out of Lena's hand, Ashlyn quickly leaped onto a rampway leading to a large balcony, gaining purchase. Of course, Lady Fackel was already in pursuit, racing out after her and leaping onto the ramp as well, summoning her saber back into her hand along the way. Eyes flaring in rage as Ashlyn was quickly overpowering her, Lena fought to keep her footing. Again, Obi-Wan's body almost acted impulsively; he was about to run off to help the girl, but Qui-Gon stopped him.

"Let her," he said, his voice leaving no place for arguments. Jeremy too felt like he should do something— he wanted to do something, but the fear he felt froze where he stood.

Ashlyn attacked at once, rushing Magdalena, closing with her at the edge of the ramp. They were God knows how many meters into the air— probably even miles. The audience braced themselves as the combatants come to grips yet again, anxious of the many things that could happen at the edge. They would help, but they knew best not to interfere; it wasn't their battle to fight. The outlander and her adversary filled the site before them, faces tight with determination and streaked with sweat.

"Ashlyn," Jeremy mumbled quietly, desperately, watching the battle for just a moment more. He was about to run forward out of impulse and intervene, though he stopped short when he felt a small hand pull him back. He glanced down and felt his eyebrows raise in surprise when he found it was the small green Jedi Master whom had stopped him.

"Intervene you must not," said Yoda, his wistful eyes never leaving the battle displaying before them.

Jeremy was a proud person, he never really like being told what to do. Ashlyn was one of the only people he really ever listened to, but he knew better than to ignore Yoda. He wasn't a Star Wars expert, but he knew Yoda was not one who fooled around; he wasn't recognized as one of the best Jedi for nothing.

The blond boy turned his attention back to the fight and watched. Ashlyn stepped back and leveled her saber once again, then swung a powerful, two-handed blow at her attacker. Lady Fackel blocked it, but only barely, and in the process lost her balance completely. The blow's force swept her away, clear of the balcony and off into the open air of the city.

Ashlyn's eyes widened in terror. She dropped her saber and raced forward, shouting her lifelong best friend's name.

"LENA!"

_ZAM!_

And she was hit by a blast that sent her body flying backward until it slammed against one of the pillars, breaking it under the impact of the blast. She could feel her back cracking and some parts of the skin on her arms ripping open as she rolled, finally coming to a stop under the wreckage. Fortunately, the Jedi reacted quickly and used the Force to suspend most of the detritus in the air to keep it all from falling on her as the weight of it all could cause fatal damage enough to kill her. Of course, the large debris on top of her should've been enough to kill her already, but, much to the Jedi's surprise, it didn't.

 _This one was strong_.

Ashlyn's eyes, slammed shut in the impact, clenched tightly for a moment before fluttering open, lids remained squinted in pain. She couldn't see clearly as the powdered paint submerged from the wrecked pillar was surrounding her and her vision was blurring.

Squinting a bit more, she glanced up toward the balcony where the blast came from. She could feel the remains of the pillar being lifted from where it laid on top of her body, but she paid the loosening weight no mind as she concentrated on the Sith floating in the air, standing in a crouch on top of her hoverboard, glaring down at her. She was visibly conflicted with herself as her body tensed, then relaxed, then tensed up again multiple times; it looked as though something was trying to push her into attack Ashlyn, though she didn't want to despite the anger and slight hatred flashing through her eyes.

"This isn't over, Cordell," hissed Lady Fackel before speeding away, her raven cloak-like coat flying behind her as she faded within the zooming traffic.

"I know it's not," whispered the wrecked girl, eyes filled with tears she refused to shed. Ashlyn let out a sigh filled of exhaustion, pain and sorrow as she let her head drop, her cheek slightly slapping against the cold tile floor. She closed her eyes as she tried to normalize her shallow breathing, ignoring the rubble that was being lifted from her body.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were first to reach her, Jeremy and Anakin rushing behind them, the other Jedi following suite, though keeping their distance as they examined the younglings, the Padawan and his master with calculating eyes.

"Ashlyn—"

"I know," said Ashlyn, cutting Jeremy off before he could even ask.

"How—"

"I don't know how or why."

"Would you—"

"No," she cut him off with a glare. She didn't mean to be mean, but she was in no mood to be questioned right now.

She rolled over onto her back and tried to push herself up into a sitting position, only to drop back onto her back. They remained silent for a moment as they watched her stubborness display before them. She almost looked childish by the way she frowned with a slight pout on her plump lips while she pushed herself up again, only to drop back, once again, onto her back. Huffing, she propped herself onto her elbows for a moment, then let herself drop back before rolling back onto her stomach. From there, she proceeded to pushing herself onto her hands and knees. She wobbled a bit, but, after a moments, she managed to scramble onto her feet. She almost collapsed anew, but she succeeded in balancing herself by holding her arms out.

"Are you all right?" Anakin finally asked, his young face mirroring his brother's concern and thus of the others watching.

Ashlyn only nodded, unable to find it in herself to say anything else. She limped over to her fallen saber, doing her best to ignore stares as she then proceeded to limp around, looking for her cloak she had just realized she was no longer wearing. When she found it under the rubble, she quickly, though painfully, bent down to pick it up then put it on to quickly hide her bloodied clothes.

"Just say it already," she muttered, avoiding mostly Qui-Gon's eyes as she turned her back to him while latching her saber onto her belt.

"You knew her," he stated quietly.

She did not reply.

"Ashlyn—"

She shook her head, then spun on her heels as glared at him, her eyes red and puffy as they shed the tears she had tried not to shed.

"You wanted to know why I was hesitating, why I didn't want you to tell them—" She jerked her head toward the Council. "— about me, well, there you have it! I don't care if I'm Force-sensitive or whatever you call it. I don't care! Becoming a Jedi would mean I would have to fight against _them_ — against _her_. Against someone I've known and cared about for as long as I can remember. I would have to stop feeling, but I _can't_."

"Ashlyn—"

"No! I just can't! Okay?! I have lost so much— I've _felt_ so much, I don't think I'll _ever_ be able to stop."

She turned away when she realized she was crying and quickly wiped the tears from her face, pulling her cloak tighter around her trembling body.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply before letting out a shaky breath. "I don't know what you saw in me that made you think I would be a good Jedi, or even a Jedi at all. I'm damaged, Qui-Gon. I'm wrecked... I'm too old for this stuff... too old, too soon," she mumbled. She opened her eyes and barely glanced back at them. "I'll see you in the ship."

With that, she walked passed and wordlessly bowed before the Council members and the other Jedi before limping toward the exit.

"Conflicted she is," said Yoda in his guttural, whispery voice. "Her way she will find someday." His eyes were lidded and sleepy, his pointed ears pricked forward. "Correct, you were, Qui-Gon."

Mace Windu nodded his concurrence, his dark, smooth face expressionless in the dim light. "Her cells, too, contain a _very_ high concentration of midi-chlorians." There was emphasis on the word 'very' as he spoke.

"The Force is strong in her too," Ki-Adi-Mundi agreed.

Qui-Gon said nothing as he tore his eyes away from the girl's retreating figure.

"Keep an eye on her," Mace Windu said quietly. "She is strong, though it would be unwise to push her. That would only possibly make an enemy out of her, which is something we could not afford."

"She's the one," said Qui-Gon.

Jeremy and Anakin shared a confused look, though listened carefully.

"Clear it is." Yoda cocked his round head contemplatively. "Clouded, this girl's future is. Masked by her youth. Clear it is, however, that the one she is."

Mace Windu took a quick look about at the others behind him, on the Council, then turned once more to Qui-Gon. "Now go with the Queen to Naboo and discover the identity of these dark warriors who attacked the girl, be it Sith or otherwise. That is the clue we need to unravel this mystery."

Yoda's nod was slow and brooked no argument. "Decided later, young Cordells' and Skywalker's fate will be."

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, filled with frustration and disappointment at the unexpected turn of events.

He bowed his acquiescence to the Council. "I brought the younglings here; they must stay in my charge. They have nowhere else to go."

Mace Windu nodded. "They are your wards, Qui-Gon. We do not dispute that."

"But train them not!" Yoda admonished sharply. "Take them with you, but train them not!"

The words stung, the force behind them unmistakable. Qui-Gon flinched inwardly, but said nothing.

"Protect the Queen," Mace Windu added. "But do not intercede if it comes to war until we have the Senate's approval."

There was a long silence as the members of the Council regarded Qui-Gon Jinn gravely. He stood there, trying to think of something more to say, some other argument to offer. Outside, the last of the twilight faded into darkness, and the lights of the city began to blink on like watchful eyes.

"May the Force be with you," Yoda said finally, signaling to the Jedi Master that the audience was over.

The Jedi and the boys, having been made aware of Amidala's imminent departure for Naboo, went directly to the landing platform where the Queen's transport was anchored to await her arrival. The shuttle ride over was marked by a strained silence between the Jedi and a discomfort in the boys he could not dispel. Had the heavy, disappointing events not occured, it would've been almost comical the way both boys simultaneously looked down at their feet most of the time, wishing they could think of a way to stop Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan from being angry at each other.

When they disembarked from the shuttle at the landing platform, Artoo-Detoo was already bustling about. The little droid beeped at Anakin cheerfully, then wandered over to the edge of the rampway to look down at the traffic. In doing so, he leaned out too far and tumbled over. Anakin gasped, but a second later the astromech droid reappeared, boosted back onto the rampway by his onboard jets. On hearing Artoo-Detoo's ensuing flurry of chirps and whistles, the boy smiled in spite of himself.

At the head of the loading ramp, Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi were engaged in a heated discussion. Wind whipped down the canyons of the city's towering buildings, hiding their words from the boys. Carefully, they edged closer so that they could listen in.

"It is not disrespect, Master!" Obi-Wan was saying vehemently. "It is the truth!"

"From your point of view, perhaps." Qui-Gon's face was hard and tight with anger.

The younger Jedi's voice dropped a notch. "The boys are dangerous. They all sense it. Why can't you?"

"Their fate is uncertain, but they are not dangerous," Qui-Gon corrected sharply. "The Council will decide their future. That should be enough for you." He turned away dismissively. "Now get on board!"

Obi-Wan wheeled away and stalked up the ramp into the ship. Artoo-Detoo followed, still whistling happily. Qui-Gon turned to the brothers, and the boys walked up to him.

"Master Qui-Gon," Jeremy said uncomfortably, riddled with doubt and guilt over what was happening, "I don't want to be a problem."

"Me neither," Anakin chimed in.

Qui-Gon placed a reassuring hand on a shoulder of each. "You won't be." He glanced toward the ship, where he could Ashlyn waiting quietly by the ramp, then knelt before the boys. "I'm not allowed to train either of you, so I want you to watch me instead and be mindful of what you see. Always remember, your focus determines your reality." He paused, eyes locked for a moment with each boy individualy. "Stay close to me, and you will be safe."

The boys shared a look then nodded their understanding.

"Can I ask you something?" said Anakin. The Jedi Master nodded. "What are midi-chlorians?"

Jeremy looked at the Jedi with an equal amount of curiosity as his brother; he never got around to knowing what that was.

Wind whipped at Qui-Gon's long hair, blowing strands of it across his strong face. "Midi-chlorians are microscopic life-forms that reside within the cells of all living things and communicate with the Force."

"They live inside of us?" the boy asked.

"In your cells." Qui-Gon paused. "We are symbionts with the midi-chlorians."

"Symbi-what?" Jeremy blurted out.

"Symbionts. Life-forms living together for mutual advantage. Without the midi-chlorians, life could not exist, and we would have no knowledge of the Force. Our midi-chlorians continually speak to us, telling us the will of the Force."  
  
"They do?"

Qui-Gon cocked one eyebrow. "When you learn to quiet your mind, you will hear them speaking to you."

Jeremy thought about it a moment, then frowned. "... I don't get it."

"I don't understand either," said the younger boy.

Qui-Gon smiled, and his eyes were warm and secretive. "With time and training, you will."

A pair of shuttles eased up to the loading dock, and Queen Amidala, her handmaidens, Captain Panaka, and an escort of officers and guards disembarked. Last off the second shuttle was Jar Jar Binks. Amidala was wearing a purple velvet travel cloak that draped her body in soft folds and a gold-rimmed cowl that framed her smooth white face like a cameo portrait.

Qui-Gon rose and stood waiting beside Anakin and Jeremy as the Queen and her handmaidens approached. Seeing the newly arrived, Ashlyn quietly made her way over, her footsteps silent against the platform albeit her limping. She stopped when she reached them, standing silently behind the Jedi Master.

"Your Highness," Qui-Gon greeted with a deferential inclination of his head. "It will be our pleasure to continue to serve and protect you."

Amidala nodded. "I welcome your help. Senator Palpatine fears the Federation means to destroy me."

"We will not let that happen," Ashlyn spoke up solemnly.

The Queen shifted her glance past the Jedi Master and felt her composed features slightly falter at the sight of the injured older girl, though the latter quickly, yet subtly shook her head, making her catch herself and recompose herself. Throat tightening slightly as she tore her eyes away from Ashlyn, Amidala turned and with her handmaidens followed Panaka and the Naboo guards and officers into the transport.

Jar Jar hurried over and enveloped Anakin and Jeremy in a huge hug. "Jerry! Annie! Weesa goen home!" he exclaimed with a grin, and the brothers hugged him back.

Moments later they were all aboard, and the sleek transport had lifted off, leaving Coruscant behind.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was night in the Naboo capital city of Theed, the streets empty and silent save for the occasional passing of battle-droid patrols and the whisper of the wind. In the Queen's throne room, Nute Gunray and Rune Haako stood attentively before a hologram of Darth Sidious. The hologram filled the space at one end of the room, rising up before them menacingly.

The dark-cloaked figure at its center gestured. "The Queen is on her way to you," the Sith Lord intoned softly. "When she arrives, force her to sign the treaty."

There was a momentary pause as the Neimoidians exchanged worried looks. "Yes, my lord," Nute Gunray agreed reluctantly.

"Viceroy, is the planet secure?" The dark figure in the hologram shimmered with movement.

"Yes, my lord." Gunray was on firmer ground here. "We have taken the last pockets of resistance, consisting of mostly primitive life-forms. We are now in complete control."

The faceless speaker nodded. "Good. I will see to it that in the Senate things stay as they are. I am sending Darth Maul and Lady Fackel to join you. They will deal with the Jedi."

"Yes, my lord." The words were a litany.

The hologram and Darth Sidious faded away. The Neimoidians stood where they were, frozen in place.

"A Sith Lord and Lady, here with us?" Rune Haako whispered in disbelief, and this time Nute Gunray had nothing to say at all.


	10. Chapter Ten

Aboard the Queen's transport, coming out of hyperspace and approaching the Naboo star system, Qui-Gon Jinn paused on his way to a meeting with the Queen to study Anakin Skywalker and Jeremy Cordell. The boys stood at the pilot's console next to Ric Olie. The Naboo pilot was bent forward over the controls, pointing each one out in turn and explaining its function. Both boys were absorbing the information with astonishing quickness, brow furrowed, eyes intense, concentration total.

"And that one?" Anakin pointed.

"The forward stabilizer." Ric Olie glanced up at him expectantly, waiting.

"And those control the pitch?" Jeremy indicated a bank of levers by the pilot's right hand.

Ric Olie's weathered face broke into a grin. "You two catch on pretty quick."

As quick as anyone he had ever encountered, Qui-Gon Jinn thought.

That was the reason both boys were so special. It gave evidence of their high midi-chlorian count. It suggested anew that Anakin was the chosen one of one of the great prophecies, and Jeremy and Ashlyn were thus of the other. The Jedi Master sighed. Why could the Council not accept that this was so? Why were they so afraid of taking a chance on them, when the signs were so clear?

Qui-Gon found himself frustrated all over again. He understood their thinking. It was bad that the trio was so old, but not fatal to their chances. What troubled the Council was not their age, but the conflict sensed within them, especially within Ashlyn who had admitted to being conflicted. Jeremy was as much damaged as his cousin, if not, probably less, but he was conflicted all the same, and though he didn't say it out loud as Ashlyn was not afraid to do so, it was clear in the way he moved, talked and reacted albeit his lighthearted and joking personality. Anakin was wrestling with his parentage, with his separation from his mother, his friends, and his home. Especially his mother.

The three of them were old enough to appreciate what might happen, and the result was uncertainty that worked within them like caged animals seeking to break free. The Jedi Council knew that it could not tame that uncertainty from without, that it could be mastered only from within.

They believed Anakin Skywalker, Jeremy and Ashlyn Cordell too old for this, their thinking and their beliefs too settled to be safely reshaped. They were all three vulnerable to their inner conflict, and the dark side would be quick to take advantage of this. It was clear they had more faith in the girl albeit her admission of her own instability; she was aware of what was and what could happen, and she had made it clear she didn't want to take a risk in joining any side. Though Jeremy was almost as matured as her, almost as old as her, he was still a child at heart and mind. To say he was unaware of what was and what could happen would be a lie, but he was much more naive than Ashlyn had been when she was younger before she had lost her mother. Sure, she still had faith in redemption, but she knew when someone was in too deep.

She _felt_ she was in too deep— she _was_ in too deep, and though a part of her wished to join the obvious choice for side, she knew she wasn't ready. Perhaps there would be a time where she would be ready to take her new weapons and use them for something more than just surviving, but she knew that now was not it. She had to find herself— help her best friend find and be herself anew— before she made any other decisions that might involve her having to protect other people's lives without worrying of her _own_.

Qui-Gon shook his head, staring over at the boys from the back of the cockpit. Yes, there were risks in accepting them as apprentices. But few things of worth were accomplished in life without risk. The Jedi order was founded on strict adherence to established procedures in the raising and educating of young Jedi, but there were exceptions to all things, even this. That the Jedi Council was refusing even to consider that this was an instance in which an exception should be made was intolerable. Still, he must keep faith, he knew. He must believe. The decision not to train them would be reconsidered on their return and reversed. If the Council did not embrace their training as Jedi voluntarily, then it would be up to Qui-Gon to find a way to make it do so.

He turned away then and walked out of the cabin, beginning his way to where the Queen was located, only to bump into Ashlyn. The girl was changed into an outfit entirely different to the ones she'd been previously wearing, and her discomfort in the new attire was but too clear in the small grimace she wore, and the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably.

But no matter what she wore, that natural beauty she possessed would undoubtedly never disappear, Qui-Gon was sure of it. However, he could not deny that he was shocked to see her wearing a dress. He had seen the many clothes she had been lent and had noticed how she made sure to always choose a shirt and a pair of trousers and boots, though, by the grimace on her face which projected her discomfort, he could only guess that the handmaiden, Padmé, had practically forced it on her.

[The dress she wore was a strikingly luxurious creation of a salmon pink color that looked gorgeous against her pale yet slightly tanned skin. It engulfed her body as if it had been made for her. Its silky folds hugged her figure, mostly around her waist, accentuating a few of her feminine curves, and its skirt flowed down over her legs, along with the floor sweeping sleeves that showcased a powerfully glamorous image. The halter neck had a cap attached to it, which was only slightly visible from under her brown robe that hung loosely on her body.](https://urstyle.com/styles/1658491)

The Jedi Master gave her a questioning look; he had not seen her since they had boarded the ship, so he did not know why she was heading the same way as he was.

"The Queen asked me to attend the meeting," she said quietly. "I hope you don't mind."

He shook his head and gave her a kind smile. "Of course not." He motioned toward the corridor. "Shall we?"

She nodded and walked by his side to the passageways beyond. The silence had settled rather comfortably between the pair as they walked quietly lasted for only a moment, however.

"I don't know why she wants me there," the girl mumbled, hugging her arms around herself.

"She trusts you."

Ashlyn frowned. "But why? Trust is meant to be earned; I haven't done anything to earn anyone's trust. I mean, I engaged a battle with you when we first met, and that's practically all I've done since I got here. I've been here for, what? A week? Two? And I've already been in four fights, one of them being with my best friend. How does one earn trust from fighting?"

Qui-Gon did not reply.

Ashlyn let out a frustrated sigh, gazing down at the ground as they continued to walk. "Quite some time has passed since I have joined you on your journey. It's been a while, but it hasn't long enough for me to be able to withhold this kind of trust that is earned within years. Despite the place of comfort you had provided me with to recover, I could've easily killed you when I was fine to walk on my own, yet you trusted I wouldn't. I could've easily turned on you all this time with the much information I gathered from the meetings I have persisted in attending with you, yet you trusted I wouldn't. You know and have known for the time I have been with you what I am capable of, yet you've turned your back on it and let me come along either way. Why?"

He stopped walking, Ashlyn following suite, watching him intently as he digested her words. He opened his mouth to reply to her wonders, but she quickly cut him off, adding, "And please, give me a non-Force related answer. I want a straight answer from _you_ , Qui-Gon Jinn. Not the Jedi Knight and Master."

He returned her intense gaze, his crystal blue eyes locked with her grayish hazel nut irises. For the first time, it was clear he couldn't find the words he wanted to say, and Ashlyn almost wanted to laugh when the realization came to her. Another reason why she did not want to become a Jedi; they rely too much on the Force. Though the Force is meant to be a sort of guide, it can also could one's judgment as a person, and Ashlyn knew she would never want that; she was unstable as it is.

The girl pursed her lips, brows furrowing as she thought of how to rephrase her question. "When we met... did you trust me?"

It was a silly question as she knew the answer already, but she couldn't help but wonder why.

"I'm not going to lie; though I was wary... yes, I trusted you."

"But why? You'd never met me before."

Qui-Gon let out a small breath. "You have a dark yet indecipherable aura surrounding you, Ashlyn. No one needs the Force to see that. Your pain and sorrow, no matter how much you try to hide it, it's clear in your eyes. In your every distant gaze, in your every wince and cringe— you may try to hide it, but even you have found denial to be of no use. My trust in you has only grown because where you see possible redemption in all others but yourself, I see it in you as well. You think you're 'in too deep,' and perhaps you are, but that does not mean you cannot be saved."

Ashlyn opened her mouth to speak, but Qui-Gon waved her off.

"When we met, I asked whether you were going to try and kill me. You told me you would never kill, and it was clear you were sincere. And sincerity is one of the biggest traits _good_ people possess."

"But I'm not a good person," Ashlyn protested.

"You may not see yourself as a good person, but I do. My Padawan does so too, and the Queen, and Annie, and Jeremy. I do not know whether your opinion about yourself will change in the times to come, but mine will not."

Ashlyn frowned at the ground before returning her intense gaze upon the Jedi Master. "Why do _you_ trust me _now_?"

"I have been watching you closely, though I am not the only one who has. There are few people of honor in the galaxy as of late, mainly due to the recent wars having gone on. You are one of them. I would like to believe that I am another, strange as that may seem."

"It's not."

"What?"

"Strange." She glanced away from him again, for a moment, before looking back at him. "Thank you."

"Whatever for?"

"For trusting me," she replied softly.

And then she smiled, receiving a warm smile in return. The pair then went on, continuing through the passageways beyond and descended one level to the Queen's chambers. The others she had called together for this meeting were already present when they arrived. Obi-Wan gave them a brief, neutral nod of recognition, standing next to a glowering Captain Panaka. Jar Jar hugged the wall to one side, apparently trying to disappear into it. Amidala sat on her shipboard throne on a raised dais set against one wall, two of her handmaidens, Rabé and Eirtaé, flanking her. Her white-painted face was composed, and her gaze cool as it met his own, but there was fire in the words she spoke next.

"When we land on Naboo," she advised the Jedi Master after he and Ashlyn had bowed and taken up a position next to Panaka, "I intend to act on this invasion at once. My people have suffered enough. "

Panaka could barely contain himself, his dark face tight with anger. "When we land, Your Highness, the Trade Federation will arrest you and force you to sign their treaty!"

Qui-Gon nodded thoughtfully, curious as to the Queen's thinking. "I agree. I'm not sure what you hope to accomplish by this."

Amidala might have been carved from stone. "The Naboo are going to take back what is ours."

"There are too few of us!" Panaka snapped, unable to keep silent. "Your Highness," he added belatedly. "We have no army!"

Her eyes shifted to Qui-Gon. "The Jedi cannot fight a war for you, Your Highness," he advised. "We can only protect you."

She let her gaze drift from them to settle on Ashlyn, who was basically communicating with her silently through her eyes. The Outlander glanced toward the clearly distracted Gungan, then back to the Queen with a pointed gaze. Catching the meaning behind her gaze, the Queen let her eyes shift toward the alien, finding him mumbling to himself while studying his toes.

"Jar Jar Binks!" she called.

Jar Jar, clearly caught off guard, stiffened. "Mesa, Your Highness?"

"Yes," Amidala of the Naboo affirmed. "I have need of your help."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Ashlyn... am I making the right choices?"

"You know I couldn't answer that well, even if I wanted to, P— Your Majesty. I can give you some advice. However, I'm afraid none will be what you distinctively seek. I'm sorry to say that all I can truly offer is my support and hand in battle."

Sigh. "I know. I just can't help it. The fate of Naboo rests—"

"On your shoulders. I know. But don't worry. You have many hands at your disposition, and hopefully, the Gungans will accept to aid us in this."

"Hopefully." Sigh. "But if they do... what do I do then? I know how to make plans regarding politics, but I've never had to make any for a war."

Pause. "Do you have any plans of the palace in Naboo?"

"Yes, why?"

Silence.

"I've never made plans for a war either, but I may have a few ideas. I'm not sure they will work perfectly, but I can guarantee we'll get the upper hand."

"Tell me, please."

"Well, we could..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Deep in the Naboo swamps, at the edge of the lake that bored downward to the Gungan capital city of Otoh Gunga, the fugitives from the Queen's transport were grouped at the water's edge, waiting for the return of Jar Jar. Amidala and her handmaidens, the outlanders, the Jedi Knights, Captain Panaka, Anakin, Artoo-Detoo, Ric Olie and several other pilots, and a handful of Naboo guards clustered uneasily in the misty silence. It was safe to say that even now no one but the Queen and Ashlyn knew exactly what it was she was attempting to do. All she had been willing to reveal to those in a position to inquire was that she wished to make contact with the Gungan people and Jar Jar would be her emissary. She had insisted on landing in the swamp, even after both Panaka and the Jedi had advised against it.

A single battleship orbited the planet, all that remained of the Trade Federation blockade. Housed within was the control station responsible for directing the droid army that occupied Naboo. When Panaka wondered aloud at the absence of the other battleships, Qui-Gon pointed out rather dryly that you don't need a blockade once you control the port.

Anakin, standing apart from the others with Jeremy and Artoo-Detoo, studied the group surreptitiously. Jar Jar had been gone a long time, and everyone but the Queen, Ashlyn, and surprisingly Jeremy was growing restless. The Queen stood wrapped in her soft robes, silent and implacable in the midst of her handmaidens. Padmé, Eirtaé, and Rabé had changed from their crimson hooded cloaks into more functional trousers, tunics, boots, and long-waisted overcoats, and there were blasters strapped to their waists. [Jeremy had changed from dark brown-green tunic and cotton black trousers to a pair of back leather pants and a black tunic with a dark reptile green sleeveless vest over it, under his brown robe twinned to Ashlyn's](https://urstyle.com/styles/1658499). Ashlyn, on the other hand, had changed into something a little more extravagant, yet not so as to stand out in the crowd like a sore thumb.

[She wore a luxurious dress in fine black fabric blend that withheld a glamorous velvet and satin optic pattern. It was sleeveless, slim and waist fitted, with strongly accentuated square pagoda shoulders, and a stand-up collar which was revealed by her hair being tied back and up into a bun. The bottom of the bodice elegantly reaped low with a swinging skirt that fell down to her mid-thighs, which were covered by a pair of black leather stretched leggings that were stuffed, at the bottom, into a pair of leather multi-strap boots that stopped just a few inches up, past her ankles. Her brown cloak, which had surprisingly remained intact even after her previous battle, hung loosely on her body, though the sleeves covered her arms perfectly, which was clearly intended to be so as her hands her visibly balled into fists at the hem of her sleeves.](https://urstyle.com/styles/1658488)

The boy had never seen Ashlyn like this, and he found himself wondering how good a fighter she _really_ was.

As if realizing he was thinking of her, Ashlyn broke away from the others and came over to him, smiling at Jeremy on the way.

"How are you, Annie?" she asked quietly, her kind eyes locking on his.

He shrugged. "Okay. I've missed you."

She smiled. "It's good to see you again. I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to talk with you before, but I've been... very busy."

They hadn't spoken more than a few words to each other since leaving Tatooine, and Anakin hadn't even seen Ashlyn since their departure from Coruscant. It had bothered him, but he'd kept it to himself.

"I didn't— I—" he stuttered, looking down at his boots. "They decided not to make us Jedi." He motioned toward Jeremy and himself before recounting the story for her, detailing the events surrounding their appearance before the Jedi Council.

Ashlyn listened intently, then touched his cheek with her cool fingers. "They can change their minds, Annie. Don't give up hope."

"Did the Queen say anything?" Jeremy asked.

She bent close then. "The Queen has made a painful, difficult decision— a decision that will change everything for the Naboo. They are peaceful people, and they do not believe in war. But sometimes there is no choice. Either you adapt, or you die. The Queen understands this. She has decided to take an aggressive posture with the Trade Federation army. The Naboo are going to fight to regain their freedom. "

"Will there be a battle?" Anakin asked quickly, trying unsuccessfully to hide his excitement.

She nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"Will you be involved?" he pressed.

She smiled sadly. "Annie, I promised the Queen she would have my hand in battle; I don't have a choice."

"Ashlyn..."

She looked over at Jeremy, her sad smile never wavering. " _I know_."

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood together some distance away. The Jedi still weren't speaking to each other, or only barely so. Their words on the journey out from Coruscant had been reserved almost exclusively for others. The hard feelings caused by Qui-Gon's bid to train Anakin and Jeremy did not soften. The boys had tried to talk to Obi-Wan once aboard the Queen's ship, just to say they were sorry this had happened, but the younger Jedi had brushed them off.

Now, though, Obi-Wan was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the situation. He had been close with Qui-Gon for too long to let a momentary disagreement put an end to twenty-odd years of friendship. Qui-Gon was like a father to him, the only father he knew. He was angry that the Jedi Master would dismiss him so abruptly in favor of the boys, but he realized, too, the depth of Qui-Gon's passion when he believed in something. Training these boys to be Jedi was a cause Qui-Gon championed as he had championed no other in Obi-Wan's memory. He did not do so to slight his proteges. He did so because he believed in the boys' destiny.

Obi-Wan understood. Who could say? Perhaps this time Qui-Gon was right. Perhaps Anakin Skywalker and Jeremy Cordell's training was a cause worth fighting for.

"I've been thinking," Qui-Gon announced suddenly, keeping his voice low, his eyes directed toward the others. "We are treading on dangerous ground. If the Queen intends to fight a war, we cannot become involved. Not even in her efforts to persuade the Gungans to join with the Naboo against the Federation, if that is what she intends by coming here. The Jedi have no authority to take sides."

"But we do have authority to protect the Queen," Obi-Wan pointed out.

Qui-Gon's eyes shifted to find his. "It is a fine line we walk, then."

"Master," Obi-Wan said, facing him now. "I behaved badly on Coruscant, and I am embarrassed. I meant no disrespect to you. I do not wish to be difficult in the matter of the boys or Ashlyn."

"Nor have you been," the older Jedi replied, a faint smile appearing. "You have been honest with me. Honesty is never wrong. I did not lie when I told the Council you were ready. You are. I have taught you all I can. You will be a great Jedi, my young Padawan. You will make me proud."

They gripped hands impulsively, the argument settling once and for all. Less than a few seconds after letting go of each other, a voice spoke from behind them with an edge of amusement in its tone.

"I see your argument on the unknown to me has settled."

They turned to see the young female outlander watching them with a small smile, an undecipherable glint shining in her hazel eyes.

"Indeed it has," replied Qui-Gon, his lips mirroring her smile, while Obi-Wan merely chuckled and nodded.

As quickly as the short exchange of words had begun, it ended when the breach that had opened between them was closed. Moments later, a dark shape broke the surface of the water with a splash, and Jar Jar climbed from the lake, shaking water from his amphibious skin onto the assembled. Long ears dripping, billed mouth shedding water like a duck's, he shook his head worriedly.

"Tis nobody dere! Deys all gone!" His eyestalks swiveled. "Some kinda fight, mesa tinks. Otoh Gunga empty. All Gungans gone. All gone."

"Do you think they have been taken to the camps?" Panaka asked quickly, glancing around at the group.

"More likely they were wiped out," Obi-Wan offered in disgust.

But Jar Jar shook his head. "Me no think so. Gungans too smart. Go into hiding. When dey in trubble, go to sacred place. Maccaneks no find dem dere."

Qui-Gon stepped forward. "Sacred place?" he repeated.

"Can you take us there, Jar Jar?" Ashlyn asked from behind the Jedi.

The Gungan sighed heavily, as if to say "Here we go again," and beckoned for them to follow.

They traversed the swamp for some time, first skirting the lake, then plunging deep into a forest of massive trees and tall grasses, following a water-screened pathway that connected a series of knolls. Somewhere in the distance, Trade Federation STAPs buzzed and whined as a search for the transport fugitives commenced in earnest. Jar Jar glanced about apprehensively as he picked his way through the mire, but did not slow.

Finally, they emerged in a clearing of marshy grasses and stands of trees with roots tangled so thickly they formed what appeared to be an impassable hedge. Jar Jar stopped, sniffed the air speculatively, and nodded. "Dissen it."

He lifted his head and made a strange chittering noise through his billed mouth, the sound echoing eerily in the silence. The group waited, eyes searching the misty gloom.

Suddenly Captain Tarpals and a scouting party of Gungans riding kaadu emerged from the haze, electropoles and energy spears held at the ready.

"Heydey ho, Cap'n Tarpals," Jar Jar greeted cheerfully.

"Binks!" the Gungan leader exclaimed in disbelief. "Notta gain!"

Jar Jar shrugged nonchalantly. "We come ta see da Boss!"

Tarpals rolled his eyes. "Ouch time, Binks. Ouch time for alla yous, mebbe."

Herding them together, Gungans on kaadu providing a perimeter escort on all sides, Tarpals led them deeper into the swamp. The canopy formed by the limbs of the trees became so thick that the sky and the sun almost disappeared. Bits and pieces of statuary began to surface, crumbling stone facades and plinths sinking in the mire. Vines snaked their way across the broken remains, dropping down from limbs that twisted and wound together in vast wooden nets.

Pushing through a high stand of saw grass, they arrived in a clearing filled with Gungan refugees-men, women, and children of all ages and descriptions, huddled together on a broad, dry rise, many with their possessions gathered around them. Tarpals led the company past the refugees to where the ruins of what had once been a grand temple were being slowly reclaimed by the swamp. Platforms and stairs were all that remained intact, the columns and ceilings having long ago collapsed and broken apart. The massive heads and limbs of stone statues poked out of the mire, fingers clutching weapons and eyes staring sightlessly into space.

At the far end of the ruins, Boss Nass appeared, lumbering out of shadows with several more of the Gungan council to stand atop a stone head partially submerged in the water. Amidala and her retinue approached to within hailing distance over a network of causeways and islands.

"Jar Jar Binks, whadda yous doen back?" Boss Nass rumbled angrily, his fleshy head swiveling. "Who yous bring here ta da Gungan sacred place?"

The Queen stepped forward at once, white face lifting. "I am Amidala, Queen of the Naboo."

"Naboo!" Boss Nass thundered. "No like da Naboo!" A heavy arm lifted, pointing at the Queen. "Yous all bombad! Yous all die, mebbe!"

Ashlyn noticed suddenly that they were completely surrounded by Gungans, some on kaadu, some on foot, all with electropoles, energy spears, and some sort of throwing device. Captain Panaka and the Naboo guards were looking around nervously, hands straying toward their blasters. The Jedi flanked the Queen and her handmaidens, but their arms hung loose at their sides.

"We wish to form an alliance with you," Amidala tried again.

"We no form nutten wit da Naboo!" Boss Nass roared angrily.

Ashlyn glanced over at Padmé and gave her a pointed look. The young girl, understanding the meaning behind the outlander's look nodded subtly, then abruptly detached herself from the others and stepped in front of the Queen.

"You did well, Sabé. But I will have to do this myself," she said quietly and turned to face Boss Nass.

"Who dis?" the head Gungan snapped.

Standing next to Anakin and Jeremy, Artoo-Detoo beeped softly in recognition. The droid had figured it out a long time ago, like Ashlyn had.

Padmé straightened. "I am Queen Amidala," she announced in a loud, clear voice. "Sabé serves from time to time as my decoy, my loyal bodyguard. I am sorry for my deception, but given the circumstances, I am sure you can understand." She turned to the Jedi, her eyes shifting momentarily to find Jeremy, who regarded her with wide eyes, and his little brother who looked equally stunned. "Gentlemen, I apologize for misleading you."

Her eyes returned quickly to Boss Nass, who was frowning suspiciously, clearly not understanding any of what was happening. "Although our people do not always agree, Your Honor," she continued, her voice softening, "we have always lived in peace. Until now. The Trade Federation, with its tanks and its 'maccaneks,' has destroyed all that we have worked so hard to build. The Gungans are in hiding, and the Naboo have been imprisoned in camps. If we do not act quickly, all that we value will be lost forever."

She stretched out her hands. "I ask you to help us, Your Honor." She paused. "No, I beg you to help us." She dropped abruptly to one knee in front of the astonished leader of the Gungans. There was an audible gasp of surprise from the Naboo. "We are your humble servants, Your Honor," Padmé said so that all could hear. "Our fate is in your hands. Please help us."

Ashlyn was quick to drop to her knees. Following her lead, and one by one, Padmé's handmaidens, Panaka, and the Naboo pilots and guards dropped to their knees beside her. Jeremy, Anakin, and the Jedi were the last to join them. Out of the corner of his eye, Anakin saw Jar Jar standing virtually alone in their midst, staring around in wonderment and shock.

For a moment, no one said anything. Then a slow, deep rumble of laughter rose out of the throat of Boss Nass. "Ho, ho, ho! Me like ills! Dis good! Yous no think yous greater den da Gungans!"

The head Gungan came forward, reaching out with one hand. "Yous stand, Queen Amidoll. Yous talk wit me, okay? Mebbe we gonna be friends after all!"

Padmé glanced back at her secret advisor and smiled brightly when the latter grinned at her.

"Told you so," Ashlyn mouthed at her.

Padmé merely giggled.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The senior Sith Lord appeared in a shimmer of robes and shadows as his protege, and the Neimoidians walked slowly down the corridor leading from the throne room back to the plaza.

"We have sent out patrols," Nute Gunray said, concluding his report to the ominous figure in the projection. "We have already located their starship in the swamp. It won't be long until we have them in hand, my lord."

Darth Sidious was silent. For a moment Nute Gunray was afraid he hadn't been heard.

"This is an unexpected move for the Queen," the Sith Lord said at last, his voice so low it could barely be heard. "It is too aggressive. Lord Maul, Lady Fackel, be mindful."

"Yes, Master," the other Sith growled softly, yellow eyes gleaming.

"Yes, Master," the female Sith echoed softly, yellow eyes turned cold and distant.

"Be patient," Darth Sidious purred, head lowered in cowled shadows, hands folded into black robes. "Let them make the first move."

In silence, Darth Maul, Lady Fackel and the Neimoidians continued on as the hologram slowly faded away. For a moment, they went on silently, when suddenly, walking at the back of the group, Darth Maul latched a hand onto Lady Fackel's arm and pulled her back. She was confused at the sudden action, though her confusion blurred when she felt a dark whip of energy shoot in through the spot on her arm her fellow Sith gripped, before flowing through her entire body.

She was frightened; he was doing something to her... but what?

Abruptly snapping out of her state of haze, she ripped her arm out of his hand and held it in her own, rubbing it at the slight pain his grip had left.

"What did you do to me?" she demanded.

His marked face was calm and composed, though his eyes held the usual hate a Sith would feel. "You were straying; I simply linked you to me."

" _Simply_? What the hell do you even mean by you 'linked me' to you?" she hissed as the pain on her arm suddenly increased.

"We have a mission to complete. The Jedi, the Queen, and the _outlanders_ will be here soon; one of them is your best friend," he sneered. "We could not afford you being careless and messing everything up, so I linked you to me; that way, there is no way you will back down on _your_ mission."

She swallowed hard. "So you're saying that whatever happens to me will happen to you... or the other way around?"

"Both." He stepped forward, towering over her with a dangerous look in his eyes. "So don't you dare fail."

She wiped all emotion from her face and replied in a cool tone, "I could say the same to you."

_Now if only I could find a way to destroy him later without dying myself..._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Boss Nass was as mercurial as he was large, and his change of attitude toward the Naboo was dramatic. Once he decided that the Queen did not consider herself his superior, that she was in fact quite sincere in her plea for Gungan help, he was quick to come around. The fact that his dislike of the battle droids was every bit as strong as hers didn't hurt matters, of course. Perhaps he had been hasty in his belief that the "maccaneks" wouldn't find the Gungans in the swamps. Otoh Gunga had been attacked at daybreak two days earlier and its inhabitants driven from their homes. Boss Nass was not about to sit still for that. If a plan could be put together to drive the invaders out, the Gungan army would do its part to help.

He took Amidala and her companions out of the swamp to the edge of the grass plains that ran south to the Naboo capital city of Theed. Any attack would be mounted from here, and the Queen had come to the Gungans with a very specific plan of attack in mind.

The first step in that plan involved sending Captain Panaka on a reconnaissance of the city. As they stood looking out from the misty confines of the swamp toward the open grasslands, waiting for Panaka's return, Boss Nass trundled up to Jar Jar.

"Yous doen grand, Jar Jar Binks!" he rumbled, wrapping a meaty arm around the slender Gungan's shoulders. "Yous bring da Naboo and da Gungan together! Tis very brave thing."

Jar Jar shuffled his feet and looked embarrassed. "Ah, yous no go sayendat. Tis nutten."

"No, yous grand warrior!" Boss Nass declared, squeezing the air out of his compatriot with a massive hug.

"No, no, no," the other persisted bashfully.

"So," Boss Nass concluded brightly, "we make yous bombad general in da Gungan army!"

"What?" Jar Jar exclaimed in dismay. "General? Me? No, no, no!" he gasped, and his eyes rolled up, his tongue fell out, and he fainted dead away.

Padmé was in conference with Ashlyn, the Jedi and the Gungan generals, to whose number Jar Jar Binks had just been added, so Anakin and Jeremy, at loose ends, had wandered over to keep company with the Gungan sentries who were keeping a lookout for Panaka. The Gungans patrolled the swamp perimeter on kaadu and kept watch through macro binoculars from treetops and the remains of ancient statuary, making certain Federation scouting parties didn't come upon them unexpectedly.

The boys stood at the base of a temple column, still trying to come to terms with the unexpected revelation. Everyone had been surprised, of course, but no one more than Jeremy. He wasn't sure how he felt about her now, knowing she wasn't just a girl he'd started to crush on, but a Queen. He and Anakin recalled and noticed how Ashlyn had seemed to be part of one of the few to had known who the real queen was. Anakin couldn't help but wonder whether Ashlyn was secretly something else as well. He wanted to talk to her, but there wasn't any opportunity for that here.

He noticed how protective she had been of Padmé from the beginning, and how much more she was now that the secret was out. Would Ashlyn leave him to go protect Padmé? _Sigh_. He supposed things wouldn't be the same after this, but he wished they could. He liked her as much now as he had before, and to tell the truth he didn't care if she turned out to be a bandit or whatnot, though he knew she wouldn't. He knew that, although she wasn't an actual angel, she was an angel at heart with broken invisible wings, but an angel all the same.

He glanced over at the girl and the Jedi Knights and thought how different things were here than they had been on Tatooine. Nothing had worked out the way he had hoped for any of them, and it remained to be seen if leaving his mother and home to come with them was a good idea after all.

The Gungan lookout standing atop a piece of statuary above him grunted. "Dey comen," he called down, peering out into the grasslands through his macro binoculars.

Jeremy gave a yell in response. He turned to Anakin and motioned him in the other direction. "C'mon! We gotta tell them!" And they raced over to Padmé, Ashlyn, the Jedi, and the Gungan generals, both shouting, "They're back!"

Everyone turned to watch a squad of four speeders skim over the flats and pull to a stop in the concealing shadow of the swamp. Captain Panaka and several dozen Naboo soldiers, officers, and starfighter pilots jumped down. Panaka made his way directly to the Queen.

"I think we got through without being detected, Your Highness," he advised quickly, brushing the dust from his clothing.

"What is the situation?" she asked as the others crowded close to them.

Panaka shook his head. "Most of our people are in the detention camps. A few hundred officers and guards have formed an underground movement to resist the invasion. I've brought as many of the leaders as I could find."

"Good." Padmé nodded appreciatively toward Boss Nass. "The Gungans have a larger army than we imagined."

"Very, very bombad!" the Gungan chief rumbled.

Panaka exhaled wearily. "You'll need it. The Federation army is much larger than we thought, too. And stronger." He gave the Queen a considering look. "In my opinion, this isn't a battle we can win, Your Highness."

Standing at the edge of the circle, Jar Jar looked down at Anakin and Jeremy and rolled his eyes despairingly.

But Padmé was undeterred. "I don't intend to win it, Captain. The battle is a diversion."

Ashlyn stepped forward and explained the plan she came up with before they got to Naboo. "We need the Gungans to draw the droid army away from Theed, so we can infiltrate the palace and capture the Neimoidian Viceroy."

Padmé nodded in agreement and added, "The Trade Federation cannot function without its head. Neimoidians don't think for themselves. Without the Viceroy to command them, they will cease to be a threat." She waited for them to consider their plan, eyes fixing automatically on Qui-Gon. "What do you think, Master Jedi?" she asked.

"It is a well-conceived plan," Qui-Gon acknowledged. "It appears to be your best possible move, Your Highness, although there is great risk. Even with the droid army in the field, the Viceroy will be well guarded. And many of the Gungans may be killed."

Boss Nass snorted derisively. "They bombad guns no get through our shields! We ready to fight!"

Jar Jar gave Anakin another eye roll, but this time Boss Nass saw him do so and gave his new general a hard warning look.

Padmé looked at Ashlyn, who was thinking. "We could reduce the Gungan casualties by securing the main hangar and sending the pilots we've gathered to knock out their orbiting control ship. Without the control ship to signal them, the droid army can't function at all."

Everyone nodded in agreement. "But if the Viceroy should escape," Obi-Wan pointed out darkly, "he will return with another droid army, and you'll be no better off than you are now. Whatever else happens, you must capture him."

"Indeed, we must," Padmé agreed. "Everything depends on it. Cut off the head, and the serpent dies. Without the Viceroy, the Trade Federation collapses."

They moved on to other matters then, beginning a detailed discussion of battle tactics and command responsibilities. Anakin and Jeremy stood listening for a moment, then, thinking along the same path, they eased their way close to Qui-Gon and tugged on his sleeve.

"What about us?" Jeremy asked quietly.

The Jedi Master put a hand on the boy's head and smiled. "You two stay close to me, do as I say, and you'll be safe."

Keeping safe wasn't quite what the boys had in mind, but they let the matter drop, satisfied that as long as they were close to Qui-Gon, he wouldn't be far from the action; Jeremy knew if he had asked Ashlyn, she would not have even let him be anywhere around. She would've sent him off to another planet if so were possible, and though it now was, given the universe they were in, there wasn't enough time.

All anyone could do right now was focus on the battle that would be starting soon.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the Theed palace throne room, Darth Sidious loomed in hologram form before Darth Maul, Battle Droid Commander OOM-9, and the Neimoidians. Smooth and silky, his voice oozed through the shadowy ether.

"Our young Queen surprises me," he whispered thoughtfully, hidden within his dark robes. "She is more foolish than I thought. "

"We are sending all available troops to meet this army of hers," Nute Gunray offered quickly. "It appears to be assembling at the edge of the swamp. Primitives, my lord-nothing better. We do not expect much resistance."

"I am increasing security at all Naboo detention camps," OOM-9 intoned.

Darth Maul glared at nothing, then shook his horned head. "I feel there is more to this than what we know, my Master. The two Jedi may be using the Queen for their own purposes."

Lena glared at him. _The Jedi couldn't involve themselves, even if they wanted to._

"The Jedi cannot become involved," Darth Sidious soothed, hands spreading in a placating motion. "They can only protect the Queen. Even Qui-Gon Jinn cannot break that covenant. This will work to our advantage."

Lena rolled her eyes. _Maybe Qui-Gon can't protect her, but Ashlyn could._

Darth Maul snorted, anxious to get on with it.

"I have your approval to proceed, then, my lord?" Nute Gunray asked hesitantly, avoiding the younger Sith's mad eyes.

"Proceed," Darth Sidious ordered softly. "Wipe them out, Viceroy. All of them."


	11. Chapter Eleven

By midday, with the sun overhead in a cloudless sky and the wind died away to nothing, the grasslands lying south of Theed between the Naboo capital city and the Gungan swamp lay empty and still. Heat rose off the grasslands in a soft shimmer, and it was so quiet that from a hundred meters away from the chirp of birds and the buzz of insects could be heard as if they were settled close by.

Then the Trade Federation army's bubble-nosed transports and armor-wrapped tanks roared onto the rolling meadows, skimming the tall grasses in gleaming waves of bright metal.

It was quiet in the swamps as well, the perpetual twilight hushed and expectant beneath the vast canopy of limbs and vines, the surface of the mire as smooth and unbroken as glass, the reeds and rushes motionless in the windless air. Here and there a water bug jumped soundlessly from place to place, stirring puddles to life in the wake of its passing, bending blades of grass like springboards. Birds swooped and banked in bright flashes of color, darting from limb to limb. Small animals crept from cover to drink and feed, eyes bright, noses twitching, senses alert.

Then the Gungan army surfaced in a rippling of murky water and a stream of bubbles, lop-eared heads popping up like corks— first one, then another, and finally hundreds and eventually thousands. Both on the plain and in the swamp, the small animals raced back into hiding, the birds took wing, and the insects went to ground.

Astride their kaadu, the Gungans rode from their concealment with armor strapped to their amphibious bodies and weapons held at the ready. They carried long-hafted energy spears and metal-handled ball slings for long-distance fighting and energy shields for close combat. The kaadu shook themselves as they reached dry ground, shedding the swamp water from their smooth skins, eyes picking out the solid patches of ground as their riders urged them on. Numbers swelling as they reached the fringes of the swamp, the Gungans began to form up in ranks of riders that stretched away as far as the eye could see. As the first wave rode clear, the swamp boiled anew with the appearance of fambaa-huge, four-legged lizards with long necks and tails and massive, scaly bodies. The fambaa bore shield generators atop their broad backs, machines that when linked would activate a force field to protect the Gungan soldiers against Trade Federation weaponry. The fambaa lumbered heavily beneath their loads, necks craning from side to side as their drivers prodded them impatiently.

Jar Jar rode with them at the head of his new command, wondering what it was he was supposed to do. Mostly, he believed, he was supposed to stay out of the way. Certainly, the other generals and even his own subordinate officers had made it clear that this was what they preferred. Boss Nass might think it clever to make him a general in the Gungan army, but the career officers found it less amusing. General Ceel, who was commander-in-chief, grunted sourly at Jar Jar, on being informed of his new position, and told him to set a good example for his people and die well.

Jar Jar had responded to all this by keeping a low profile until the march out of the swamp began, and then he had assumed his required position at the head of his command. He had gotten barely a hundred meters after emerging from concealment when he had fallen off his kaadu. No one had bothered to stop to help him climb back on, and so now he was riding somewhere in the middle of his troops.

"Tis very bombad," he kept whispering to himself as he rode with the others through the marshy haze. Slowly, steadily, the Gungan army cleared the tangle of the swamps and moved out onto the open grasslands where the Trade Federation army was already waiting.

Anakin hunkered down with his brother in the shadows of a building directly across from the main hangar of the Naboo starfleet in the city of Theed. It was quiet here as well, the bulk of the battle droids dispatched to the field to deal with the Gungan army, the remainder scattered throughout the city in patrols and on perimeter watch. Nevertheless, tanks crowded the plaza fronting the hangar complex, and a strong contingent of battle droids warded the Naboo fleet. Seizing control of the starfighters was not going to be easy.

Anakin glanced over at those with him. Padmé, dressed as a handmaiden, crouched with Eirtaé beside the Jedi, waiting for Captain Panaka's command to get into position on the other side of the square. Sabé, the decoy Queen, and her handmaidens wore battle dress, loose-fitting and durable, with blasters strapped to their sides. Artoo-Detoo blinked silently from behind them in the company of twenty-odd Naboo officers, guards, and pilots, all armed and ready. It seemed to the boy like a pathetically small number of fighters to carry the day, but it was all they had.

At least Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were talking again. They had begun doing so on the journey in from the swamps, a few words here, a few there, exchanging comments guardedly, testing the waters. Anakin had listened carefully, more attuned to the nuances of their conversation than others could be, hearing in the inflection of their voices more than simply the words spoken. After a time, when the words had healed enough of the breach that they felt comfortable again, there were smiles, brief and almost sad, but clear in their purpose. The Jedi were old friends, and their relationship was that of father and son. They did not want to toss it all away over a single disagreement. Anakin was thankful for that, especially since the disagreement in question was over not only Ashlyn and Jeremy but mostly over himself.

Ashlyn had spoken to him as well, joining him for a few moments as they approached the city through the forests east, her smile banishing all his doubts and fears in a moment's time.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner," she said, apologizing for hiding her friend's identity. "I know it was a surprise."

"It's okay," he said, shrugging bravely. "I get that you're not one to tell others' secrets; you're loyal."

Ashlyn smiled, raising a hand to brush it against his cheek affectionately. "Do you feel differently about me?" she asked.

She knew the boy trusted her with his all, and she felt bad to have kept such a secret, even though it had not been her own. She liked the friendship she held with him and did not want such a thing to get in between it.

"I guess a bit, but that's okay. Just so you still like me. Because I still like you." He looked over at her hopefully.

She chuckled. "Of course, Annie. Telling you the identity of someone important doesn't mean my feelings for you have changed. It wasn't my secret, after all; I am the same person I was before."

He thought about it a moment. "I suppose." He brightened. "So I guess my feelings for you shouldn't be any different now either."

She moved away, smiling broadly back at him, and just at that moment, he felt ten meters tall. So now he was at peace with himself about the Jedi and Ashlyn but was beset with new concerns.

 _What if something happened to them during the fight ahead? What if they were hurt or even_... He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought.

Nothing bad would happen to them, that was all. He wouldn't let it. He glanced at them, kneeling in silence at the edge of the plaza, and promised himself he would keep them safe no matter what. That would be his job. His mouth tightened with determination as he made his pledge.

"Once we get inside, Annie, you find a safe place to hide until this is over," Qui-Gon advised suddenly, bending close, almost as if he could read the boy's mind. He looked at the older boy, a stern look on his face. "You too, Jeremy."

Jeremy bit back a disappointed sigh. "Sure," he promised in unison with Anakin.

"And stay there," Ashlyn added firmly.

"Ash..."

"No."

"But I can—"

"No."

"But you don't even know what I was going to say!"

Ashlyn looked Jeremy dead in the eyes, expression matching her tone. "Jeremy Christopher Cordell, you are not joining this battle."

"But I can shoot—"

Ashlyn groaned. "This isn't a video game or a paintball match, Jeremy," she grunted.

"— and I've reached my Sixth Kyu in Karate!" he continued. "Please!"

He looked at her with widened eyes and his lower lip jutted out slightly. In spite of the battle approaching, it was actually a rather comical scene that brought a few amused smiles upon the faces of those watching the pair.

"This worked so much better when you were  _much_  younger," Ashlyn mumbled, shifting her weight from one foot to another in discomfort.

"I can help keep the Queen protected," Jeremy added. "Imagine that— Star Wars fighting mixed with some from our world. They won't see it coming!" He stepped forward, causing her to immediately turn away from his puppy-dog look. "Please, please— pretty please with a cherry on top?!"

Ashlyn face-palmed herself. "Ugh, you did not just say that."

"Plea—"

"Okay, fine!" she grumbled. "Just... no more of that cherry on top stuff." Jeremy grinned and hugged the girl. She groaned, squirming in his arms so he would let her go. "But you better have some protection for yourself. Get a blaster— find yourself a bazooka or whatever if you can just stay safe, okay?"

Jeremy nodded, stepping away. "Of course."

"I mean it, Jeremy," said Ashlyn. "Don't act impulsively. I want you to follow the plan to point. Stay with Padmé and her guards. Don't get distracted by anything, do you hear me?"

Jeremy sighed at how motherly she acted towards him but nodded all the same. "I will, don't worry," he said. "But you better be careful too. And come back."

She gave him a small smile and pulled him into another embrace. "You know I'll try my best."

"I mean it, Ash," he echoed in a mumble against her shoulder. "You're all I've got left now. Anakin may be my brother, but I don't know the kid all too well. I've known you my whole life, and I can't lose you again."

She pulled away and placed a hand on his cheek, gazing down at him with a fond look. "You won't, I promise." She nodded toward Padmé's group which was getting ready to leave. "Now go. Show 'em what you got."

Grinning, Jeremy pulled her into one last embrace before running off. Ashlyn then turned to Anakin and placed a hand on his head and gave him a small smile.

"Stay safe, Annie," she said softly, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

The boy blushed, ducking his head slightly out of sudden shyness when she pulled away. "I will. Be careful out there when the battle starts."

She let out a halfhearted chuckle and nodded. "Don't worry; I will."

Her smile began to fade as she made her way over to the Jedi and vanished completely when she stopped a few feet ahead from Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as the upcoming battle began to make its way into her mind. Her mind, then, soon wandered back to one of the most precious the memories of herself, Lena and Zack...

_"I really do wish we could stay this way," Ashlyn mumbled._

_"Like this, forever," Lena agreed._

_Ashlyn sighed. "I can't wait to be old enough to finally leave this hell hole. We could just pack our bags and leave," she muttered._

_"Or... we could run away... now," Zack whispered. "Just the three of us... What if we just left... and made our own home? Of course, we'd come back for Charlie, but..."_

_Ashlyn gave him a small smile._

" _And where exactly would a bunch of ten-year-olds_ _go? How on earth would we survive... out there?" Ashlyn could see both of their faces sadden and she instantly felt guilty for saying that._

 _She sighed and lightly squeezed their hands she held. "Guys... you know this is not something we can run away from," she whispered. "I_ _**would** _ _run with you, though, if we could."_

_They stayed silent for a long while, just staring up at the darkening sky. It was nice. Just being here, the three of them, not worrying about the way they would be treated when they got home._

_"Ash... promise me we will always be best friends," Magdalena said._

_Ashlyn smirked playfully. "Not if you don't promise me too," she replied._

_Magdalena rolled her eyes. "Of course I promise," she said, smiling at Ashlyn._

_She smiled back before replying, "Then I promise too."_

_"I promise too."_

She came out of her memory, heart clenching almost as tight as her teeth were gritted and ready to bite her tongue off; that moment had been the mark of their friendship, their oath to each other.

Now, it was as though none of that happened and that broke her inside even more— she had always held the same hopes, beliefs, and dreams that Lena and Zack did and she missed them dearly; Zack for being God-knows-where, and Lena for having turned her back on her.

Ashlyn couldn't help but wonder... was it really her fault that Lena decided to change? Was she far too gone to be saved?

 _No_. She refused to believe it.

"We're going to have to fight her, you know," Obi-Wan suddenly called from where he stood a few feet behind her, knocking her out of her thoughts.

He walked up closer to her, stopping as he waited for an answer. Ashlyn nodded, she had already thought about that. One of her best friend's had become what the Sith had wanted her to become; of course, they'd have to fight her, they would use her to try and stop her, the Jedi, the queen, and her pilots.

"I know," she confirmed, her back still facing him as she replied.

"Look," Obi-Wan sighed from beside her. "Whoever she used to be, the girl she is now—" He tried to say this as best he could. "I don't think there's a possibility of her being  _saved_. If we don't get through to her, she'll have to be stopped."

Ashlyn shook her head; she  _really_  didn't believe that. "I can't do that," she said. "If you believe  _I_  am redeemable, then you better believe she is too. I was once in a much worse position than she currently is. I was able to get out. Maybe she can too."

The young Padawan's face gave a look of pity. "She may not give us a choice. I saw her at the Temple; she was ready to kill you, Ashlyn."

She turned and gave him an icy look. "At one point so was I. But she got my head out of the gutter. If I have to fight her, so be it, but I won't wipe her out, nor will I let anyone do that." She tore her eyes away from him and stared ahead. "I would die before I let anyone do that."

"You would die for her?"

Ashlyn's eyes squinted as she looked at him over her shoulder before she sent him a slightly sadistic smile.

"Of course. After all, she did that for me— how do you think she got here?" she retorted.

He knew it was wrong to think the way he did, especially considering the age difference between them and the fact that he was a Jedi in training, but it was honestly her selfless thoughts, her determination, and even her unfailing hope for others' redemption that made Obi-Wan just want to kiss her again.

Across the way, Panaka and his contingent of fighters were in a position now, placing the tanks and battle droids in a crossfire with Padmé's group. Padmé produced a small glow rod and flashed a coded signal to Panaka across the square.

All around Anakin, weapons slid free of holsters and fastenings, and safeties were released.

Then Panaka's fighters opened up on the battle droids, blasters shattering their metal bodies in a hail of laser fire. Other droids wheeled about in response and began exchanging fire, drawn toward the source of the conflict and away from Padmé's group.

Qui-Gon came to his feet. "Stay close," Qui-Gon whispered to him.

A moment later, the boy was running with the outlanders, the Jedi, Padmé, Eirtaé, Artoo, and their Naboo contingent of soldiers and pilots toward the open door of the hangar.

Jar Jar sat tall astride his kaadu, having regained his composure and resumed his position at the head of his troop. The Gungan army was spread out all along the grasslands on either side of where he rode for as far as the eye could see. Birdlike, the kaadu picked their way through the tall grasses, heads dipping, Gungan riders swaying with the motion. The Gungans wore leather and metal headgear and body armor, with small, circular shields strapped at their hips and tri-plate energy packs for abetting the force field jutting like metal feathers from their saddlebacks. The fambaa, bearing the shield generators, were spaced evenly down their lines to achieve maximum protection once the generators were activated. Like tanks, the massive lizards lumbered amidst the more nimble kaadu, and the grasslands shook with the weight of their passing.

At the head of the army rode General Ceel and his command unit, the flags of Otoh Gunga and the other Gungan cities borne in their wake at the end of long poles. The army crested a rise, a great, rolling wave of dark bodies, and on a hand signal from General Ceel, drew to a halt.

Across a long, shallow depression, its position secure on the next ridge over, the Trade Federation army waited. Lines of STAPs and tanks formed the first rank, spread out over a distance of more than a kilometer, armor plating and weapons gleaming in the midday sun. Buttressing the smaller vehicles were the huge Federation transports, massive bodies hovering just off the ground, bulbous-nosed gates closed and pointed forward toward the Gungans. Battle droids controlled tanks and STAPs, faceless and empty metal shells impervious to pain, devoid of emotion, and programmed to fight until destroyed.

Jar Jar stared at the droid army in awe. There was not a living creature in sight, not one made of flesh and blood, not one that would react to the terrible roil of battle as the Gungans would. It made his skin crawl to think of what that meant.

The fambaa were in place now, and General Ceel activated the shield generators. The big turbines hummed to life, and a pulse of red light arced from a generator atop one fambaa to a dish atop the next, the beam widening and broadening as it grew in size to encompass the whole of the Gungan army until each soldier and kaadu was safely enfolded. The coloring of the protective light changed from red to gold, shimmering like a mirage on a desert. The effect was to make it appear as if the Gungan army was underwater as if it had been swallowed in a bright, clear sea.

The Federation was quick to test the shield's effectiveness. On a signal from Droid Commander OOM-9, who in turn was responding to a command from the deep-space control center, the tanks opened fire, their laser cannons sending round after round into the covering. Searing beams hammered into the shield and shattered ineffectively against the liquid energy surface, unable to penetrate. Within their protective covering, the Gungans waited patiently, weapons ready, trusting the strength of their shield.

Astride his kaadu, Jar Jar flinched and squirmed fearfully, muttering various prayers to ward off the destruction he was certain would find him otherwise. Relentlessly, the Trade Federation cannons continued their attack, streamers of energy lancing from their barrel mounts, pounding at the covering. The flash and burn and explosion were blinding and deafening, but the Gungans held their ground. Finally, the Trade Federation guns went still. Try as they might, they could not break through the Gungan energy shield. Within their protective canopy, the Gungans cheered and brandished their weapons triumphantly.

But now the tanks and STAPs withdrew, and the massive transports advanced to the fore. The rounded-nose doors opened, widening to reveal a cluster of racks mounted within. The racks rolled forward on long rails, revealing row after row of battle droids neatly folded up and suspended on hooks. When the racks were fully extended, they began to lower and separate outward, filling the open space in front of the transports with thousands of droids.

Positioned at the forefront of their army, General Ceel and his Gungan commanders exchanged worried looks.

Now the racks began to release the battle droids, who un^folded in unison into standing positions, arms and legs extended, bodies straight. Metal hands reached back over shoulders to pull free the blaster rifles with which each unit was equipped.

On command from OOM-9, the entire array of battle droids began to march toward the Gungan army; bright metal ranks filling the grasslands from horizon to horizon.

The Gungan shield wall was designed to deflect large, slow-moving objects of density and mass such as artillery vehicles and small, fast-moving objects generating extreme heat such as projectiles from weapons fire. But it would not deflect small, slow-moving droids-even massed together in such numbers as they were here. Jar Jar began to wish he were somewhere else, thinking that as mighty as the Gungan army was, it was dwarfed by the metal machine that marched against it now. But the Gungans had come prepared for battle, and they were not so deterred by the number of their enemies that they were ready to quit. All up and down their lines, Gungans activated their energy spears and straight-handled slings, arming them for the attack. At the foot of the rise on which they waited, the front ranks of the battle droids reached the perimeter of the energy field and began to pass through. The shield had no effect on them. Lifting their blasters to their shoulders, they began to fire.

Amid a wail of great, curved battle horns, the Gungans retaliated. A shower of spears rained down on the advancing droids, shafts, and points exploding on impact, ripping metal limbs and torsos apart. Energy balls flung from the slings followed, inflicting further damage. Mortars dumped their loads in the center of the droid ranks, opening huge gaps in the attack. The battle droids reeled and slowed, then regained momentum and came on, hundreds more taking the place of those who had fallen, marching mindlessly through the protective shield and into the range of the Gungan weapons.

At the center of his command unit, General Ceel urged his warriors on, tightening his defensive lines in front of the fambaa and the shield generators to protect them from harm, knowing that if the force field came down, the Trade Federation's tanks would strike the Gungans as well.

Battle-droid ranks, metal parts reflecting sun and fire, and Gungan lines, orange-skinned and supple, closed to do battle. Resisting the temptation to shut his eyes against what he knew was coming, Jar Jar kicked his heels into the flanks of his kaadu and charged ahead with the rest of his command.

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In the relative seclusion of the Theed palace throne room, in a place they had believed safely removed from any real danger, Nute Gunray and Rune Haako stared at a giant viewscreen and its rapidly changing images of the battle taking place in the main hangar. The Jedi Knights were inside the complex, accompanied by Naboo soldiers and pilots, their lightsabers wreaking havoc on the battle droids who tried to stop them.

"How did they get into the city?" Rune Haako whispered in dismay.

Nute Gunray shook his head. "I don't know. I thought the battle was going to take place far from here." His eyes were wide and staring. "This is too close!"

They turned as one when Darth Maul stalked into the room, bearing a long-handled lightsaber. Yellow eyes gleamed out of the Sith's red and black tattooed face, and his dark cloak billowed out behind him. Nute Gunray and Rune Haako backed away instinctively, neither of them wanting to get in the way.

"Lord Maul," Gunray greeted, inclining his head briefly. "Lady Fackel," he added as the latter entered the room and stood behind Maul.

Magdalena ignored the greeting and stood as still as a statue, her face expressionless as she kept her eyes away from the occupants in the room.

Darth Maul, however, glanced at Gunray disdainfully. "I told you there was more to this than, as apparent!" His eyes had a wild, manic look to them. "The Jedi have come to Theed for a reason, Viceroy. They have a plan of their own for defeating us."

"A plan?" the Neimoidian asked worriedly.

"One that will fail, I assure you." The striped face glinted wickedly in the light. "I have waited a long time for this. I have trained for it endlessly. The Jedi will regret their decision to return here."

There was an edge to his rough voice that was frightening. The Sith was anxious for this confrontation, his body coiled and ready, his hands flexing about his weapon. The Neimoidians did not envy those he   
sought.

"Wait here until we return," he ordered abruptly, and gripped into the arm of his protesting fellow Sith, then swept past them.

"Where are you going?" Nute Gunray demanded frantically as the Sith Lord crossed toward the speeder docks.

"Where do you think we're going, Viceroy?" the other sneered. "We're going to the main hangar to rid you of the Jedi once and for all."

Magdalena's eyes widened in horror.  _No! Not now!_

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Anakin rushed through the open doors of the main hangar after the Jedi and Padme, with Artoo-Detoo and the rest of the Naboo freedom fighters on their heels. Battle droids turned to confront them, but lightsabers and blasters cut apart the foremost before the others even knew what was happening. The droids rallied in response, summoning help from without, but Panaka and his men had those in the plaza already occupied, and for a moment the Jedi and the Naboo were in control.

Mindful of Qui-Gon's admonition, Anakin ducked beneath the fuselage of the closest starfighter, laser bolts searing the air around him in a brilliant burst of fire.

"Get to your ships!" Ashlyn shouted at the queen's pilots, leading the contingent of Naboo soldiers under her command in pursuit of the retreating battle droids.

Ducking and crouching, Padmé, who stood a few feet away from her with her pilots, fired her blaster with quick, precise moves, bringing down droid after droid, her charges finding their targets with unerring accuracy. The Jedi, along with Ashlyn, fought just ahead of her, blocking droid laser fire with their lightsabers, striking down those unfortunate enough to cross their path.

But it was Jeremy on whom Anakin's eyes re-riveted, for not only had he never seen this side of him, he hadn't even known it existed. He moved with the skill and training of a seasoned fighter, no longer seeming in any way the happy-go-lucky boy he had appeared to be since their meeting, becoming instead a deadly combatant.

Gazing ahead to where the Jedi fought, Anakin's eyes stilled upon Ashlyn, blinking in slight surprise. She, too, was displaying a side he never knew she had. Perhaps he did, and perhaps he simply did not know to expect it nor when. He remembered the previous battles he witnessed; against the thugs, against the demon-looking Sith, and finally against her Sith-rendered best friend. Though her moves had been clearly a result of years of practice, her fighting style was rough and reckless.

Now, every move— every flip, twirl, and swing of her saber seemed precalculated, strategized. Her moves were so precise and graceful that it looked almost as though she were dancing— twirling around neon lights rather than deflecting lasers blasted by the droids.

He thought suddenly of his dream of her leading an army in another time and place, and suddenly the dream didn't seem so impossible.

Pilots from the attacking force and Artoo units freed from storage in the hangar lockers moved quickly to board the Naboo fighters, scattering swiftly through the hail of blaster fire. Clambering aboard their starships, pilots in the cockpits, Artoo units in their sockets, they switched on their control panels and ignited their engines. A roar of power filled the massive hangar, drowning out the sound of laser fire, building to an ear-shattering crescendo. One by one, the fighters began to levitate and shift into position for takeoff.

A Naboo pilot rushed past Anakin and climbed into the fighter he was crouched behind. "Better get out of here, kid!" he called down from the cockpit. "Find yourself a new hiding place! You're about to lose this one!"

Anakin darted away in a low crouch, droid blaster fire crisscrossing the air above him, centering on the departing ships. The fighter he had abandoned began to lift off, wheeling toward the open hangar doors. Other ships were already speeding away into the blue, engines booming.

As the Jedi, the outlanders and the Naboo fighters continued to push the droid hangar watch steadily back, Anakin searched hastily for a new hiding place. Then he heard Artoo-Detoo whistle at him from another fighter close at hand, the little droid already ensconced in his socket, domed head rotating, control lights flashing. The boy raced across the hangar floor littered with the shattered bodies of battle droids, laser fire whizzing all about him, and jumped into the cockpit with a gasp of relief.

Peering out from the safety of his bolt-hole, he watched the last pair of Naboo fighters rocket out of the hangar. The first got free, but the second was hit by tank fire and knocked sideways so that it pinwheeled into the ground and exploded in a ball of flame. Anakin winced and crouched lower.

Now Panaka, Sabé, and the Naboo soldiers who had been engaged in combat outside the hangar burst through the doors as well, firing as they came. Caught in a crossfire, the remaining battle droids were quickly overwhelmed and destroyed. There was a hurried conference between the Jedi, the outlanders, Padmé, and Panaka, and then the entire Naboo fighting force began to move toward an exit in the hangar that took them directly past Anakin's hiding place.

"Hey, where are you going?" the boy asked, popping his head out of the cockpit as they passed.

"Annie, you stay there!" Qui-Gon ordered, motioning him back down. His long hair was wild and his face intense. "Stay right where you are!"

The boy ignored him, standing up instead. "No, I want to go with you and Ashlyn!"

"Stay in that cockpit!" Qui-Gon snapped in a tone of voice that brooked no argument.

Anakin froze, undecided, as the contingent hurried past him toward the exit door, weapons at the ready. He did not want to be left behind. He had no intention of letting Qui-Gon and Ashlyn go on without him, especially since he could do nothing to help them if he was stuck here in this empty hangar.

He was still wrestling with the matter when the entire group slowed in front of the exit door.

A dark-cloaked figure stepped through the opening to confront them. Anakin's breath caught in his throat. It was the Sith Lord who had attacked them on the Tatooine desert, a dangerous adversary, Qui-Gon had advised the boy later, an enemy of the Jedi Knights. He stepped out of the shadows like a large sand panther, his red and black tattooed face a terrifying mask, his yellow eyes bright with anticipation and rage.

Blocking the way out, he stood, waiting for the Jedi and their charges, a long-handled lightsaber held before him.

Captain Panaka and his fighters backed away at once. Then, on command from Qui-Gon, Padmé and her handmaidens gave ground as well, though less quickly and with more obvious reluctance.

Ashlyn Cordell, Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi stood alone in the Sith Lord's path, their bodies creating a small triangle as the Outlander stood behind the Jedi who were standing side by side.

Together, the Jedi removed their capes and ignited their lightsabers. Ashlyn, however, stepped backward, out of the human-formed triangle, her grip tightening around the hilt of her saber as she felt another familiar presence nearing their destination.

Their homed antagonist stripped away his cloak as well, then lifted the long-handled lightsaber he bore as if offering it for inspection. Gleaming blade fire jutted from both ends of the handle, revealing a deadly, dual-blade weapon. A smile crossed the bearer's feral face as he swung the weapon before him in an idle, casual gesture, beckoning the Jedi ahead.

Spreading out to either side, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan slowly advanced to meet him.

Anakin Skywalker had made a promise to himself that he would protect Qui- Gon Jinn and Ashlyn Cordell from harm, that he would see to it somehow that nothing bad happened to them. He knew when he made the promise how hard it was going to be to keep.

Somewhere in the back of his mind where he would admit such things privately, he knew how foolish it was even to make such a commitment. But he was young and brave at heart, and he had lived his life pretty much on his own terms because to live it any other way would have broken him long ago. It hadn't been easy doing so, especially as a slave. He had survived mostly because he had been able to find small victories in difficult situations and because he had always believed that one day he would find a way to overcome the circumstances of his birth.

His belief in himself had been rewarded. His life had been changed forever by his victory just days earlier in the Boonta Eve Podrace on Tatooine.

It was not so strange then that he should decide he could somehow affect the lives of a Jedi Knight and a girl of another time and world as well, even if he did not know precisely how. He was not afraid to accept such responsibility. He was not daunted by the challenge his decision presented.

But now his resolve was put to the test.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan closed with the Sith Lord in a clash of lightsabers. Soon, another clash was heard from behind the Jedi and the Sith that produced the shriek of diamond-edged saw blades cutting through metal.

Anakin looked over and felt his breath get caught in his throat when he saw the girls gazing fiercely at each other, the glow of the clashed purple and blue lightsabers bouncing off their faces shining with slight sweat produced by the heat of their weapons.

"You don't have to do this, Lena," said Ashlyn.

The young Sith gritted her teeth. "Oh, yes, I do!"

While the other two Jedi and the male Sith fought their way out of the hangar, the two girls wheeled across its center, lunging and parrying, attack and counterattack carried out in a fierce, no-holds-barred, no-quarter-given struggle. The Sith Lady was skilled, Anakin saw— almost as skilled, perhaps, as the girl she faced, which was something undoubtedly dangerous seeing as Ashlyn seemed to be more skilled than the two other Jedi that led their own battle out the chamber. And she seemed very confident in a way that was disturbing.

She would not be overcome easily.

But Padmé, Jeremy and the Naboo faced a more dangerous situation still. At the far end of the hangar, from off the plaza, a cluster of three destroyer droids wheeled through the doorway and began to unfold, assuming a battle stance. Artoo-Detoo saw them first and beeped a warning to the boy.

Anakin tore his gaze away from the now antagonized outlanders. The destroyer droids had transformed and were already moving forward, laser guns firing into the Naboo and the male outlander. Several soldiers went down, and Sabé was stung by a glancing blow that knocked her backward into the arms of Panaka. Padmé and her companions resisted determinedly, but already they were falling back to find cover.

"We've got to help, Artoo," the boy declared.

Then he stood up in the cockpit with the intention of doing something, anything, casting about futilely for a weapon. But Artoo-Detoo was already way ahead of him. The little droid had plugged himself into the starfighter's computer system, lights blinking across his control panel as he triggered the big engines. Everything roared to life at once, startling Anakin, who fell back in the pilot's seat in surprise.

Slowly, the ship began to levitate, wheeling out of its mooring space.

"Great work, Artoo!" Anakin shouted excitedly, reaching at once for the steering bars. "Now, let's see..."

He wheeled the starfighter about so that it was facing toward the combatants. His eyes scanned the control panel desperately, searching for the weapons systems. He knew something of starfighters from salvaging wrecks, but nothing of Naboo starfighters in particular or of weapons systems in general. Most of what he knew was about guidance systems and engines, and most of that about Pods, speeders, and aging transports.

"Which one, which one?" he muttered, his fingers passing over buttons and levers and switches, undecided.

He lifted his eyes momentarily. One of the Naboo soldiers went down in a crumpled heap, his helmet and blaster flying away in a clatter of metal. Laser charges burned the metal girders and walls about the defenders as the destroyer droids continued their relentless attack on Padmé's dwindling force. In desperation, Anakin threw a bank of switches set into a red panel. The fighter began to shake violently, a reaction to a shift in the stabilizers.

"Uh-oh, wrong ones," the boy breathed, throwing the switches back into place. His gaze roamed to a bank of four dark buttons recessed deep into finger holes and circled in green. "Maybe these..."

He pressed down on the buttons. Instantly, the nose lasers fired, their charges ripping into the battle droids. Three went down, charred and smoking scrap.

"Yeah! Droid blasters!" he shouted gleefully, and behind him, Artoo beeped his approval.

The remaining destroyer droids wheeled toward him spreading out across the hangar floor to present a more difficult target. Behind them, Jeremy, Padmé, her handmaidens, Panaka, and the remainder of the Naboo soldiers were racing for the door that led back toward the palace. Anakin watched over the rim of the cockpit as they disappeared safely out the door.

"Good luck," he whispered.

The destroyer droids were advancing on him now, their blasters firing, charges exploding all around him, shaking the fighter's slim frame. Anakin had a momentary glimpse of the Sith Lady driving Ashlyn across the hangar and through an opening into a room beyond, pressing her backward relentlessly, pursuing her with a fury that was terrifying. Then they disappeared from view as well, and the boy was alone with his attackers. A laser blast struck the nose of his craft and knocked the ship sideways. The boy tightened his grip on the steering. He fired his own lasers in retaliation, but the destroyer droids had moved too far to either side to be affected, and his charges missed everything but the hangar walls.

He dropped below the rim of the cockpit once more, eyes searching the control panel anew.

"Shields up," he hissed, forcing himself to concentrate as laser blasts streaked all around. "Always on the right side! Shields are always on the right!"

He flipped several likely switches, and the afterburner ignited with a rumble. He pushed another, then one more. The steering handle fought itself free of his grip, and the fighter wheeled about and streaked out through the hangar doors, lifting swiftly away.

The cockpit hood slid smoothly into place, locking about the boy. "Artoo, what's happening?" he screamed. Artoo-Detoo's nervous beeps and whistles sounded through the intercom speakers. "Yes, I know I pushed something!" the boy answered. "No, I'm not doing anything!" He caught his breath as the beeps continued, and read Artoo's words on his cockpit display. "It's on automatic pilot? Well, try to override it!"

The sleek yellow fighter had left the Naboo atmosphere and was entering deep space, leaving the planet behind, a green and blue jewel receding into the black. Ahead, a series of small, silver dots appeared, growing steadily larger — other ships.

"Artoo, where are we going?" Anakin gasped, still trying to decipher the control panel.

The comm system squawked, and suddenly he was hearing the voices of Ric Otic and the Naboo pilots who had taken off ahead of him.

" _This is Bravo Leader._ " Ric's leathery voice broke through the static. " _Bravo Two, intercept enemy fighters. Bravo Three, make your run on the transmitter station_."

" _Copy, Bravo Leader,_ " the response came back.

Anakin could see them now, the silver dots taking on recognizable shape, transforming into Naboo starfighters, spread out against the blackness, approaching the larger, blockier form of the Federation battleship.

" _Enemy fighters straight ahead_ ," Ric Otic warned suddenly in the comm.

At the same moment, Artoo-Detoo beeped hurriedly at Anakin.

The boy felt his stomach lurch as he read the display. "What do you mean, the autopilot is searching for the other ships? What other ships?" His eyes shifted to the Naboo fighters ahead. "Not those?"

Artoo-Detoo whistled a quick confirmation.

Anakin collapsed in his seat. "The autopilot is taking us up there, with them? Into battle?" His mind raced. "Well, get us off autopilot, Artoo!"

The astromech droid beeped and whistled some more.

"There is no manual override!" Anakin shouted in despair. "Or at least not any I can find! You'll have to rewire or something! Artoo, hurry!"

He stared helplessly through the cockpit glass as his fighter streaked directly toward the heart of the Trade Federation swarm, wondering what in the world he was going to do to save himself now.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Lady Fackel was a destined warrior, never to be any better, her powers at their apex. In addition, she was driven by her inexplicable, maniacal hatred and disdain towards her former best friend and current opponent. She had worked and trained all her life for this moment, for a chance to meet the young Cordell in combat and finally best her at it.

She had no fear for herself, no doubt that she would win. She was focused in a way that Ashlyn recognized at once— a martial artist's focus, mindful of the present, locked in on what was needed in the here and now. Ashlyn saw it in her suddenly mad eyes and in the set of her snow-white features. The Sith Mistress was a living example of what the Jedi Master had been telling her about how best to hear the will of the Force.

The two combatants fought their way across the hangar floor, lightsabers flashing, bringing to bear every skill they had acquired over the years and over their time in that foreign yet slightly familiar universe. Cordell tried continually to press the attack, and indeed, the Sith Mistress was moving away from the Naboo and the starfighters, and back toward the hangar's far wall. But Ashlyn recognized that while it might seem as if she were driving Lena before her, it was the Sith Mistress who was controlling the struggle.

Wheeling and spinning, leaping and somersaulting with astonishing ease, Lena was taking her with her, drawing Ashlyn on to a place of her own choosing. Her agility and dexterity allowed her to keep Ashlyn at bay, constantly attacking while at the same time effectively blunting her counterattacks, relentlessly searching for an opening in her defense.

Ashlyn pressed hard in the beginning, sensing how dangerous her friend had become, wanting to put an end to the combat quickly.

Glossy hair flying out of its tie and behind her, she attacked with ferocity and determination. So she challenged the newborn Sith quickly, and just as quickly she discovered that her best efforts were not good enough to achieve an early resolution. She settled into a pattern then, focusing and working hard against her enemy, waiting for an opening. But the Sith Mistress was too clever to give her one, and so the battle had gone on.

They fought their way out of the main hangar through an entry that led into a power station. Catwalks and overhangs crisscrossed a pit in which a tandem of generators that served the starship complex was housed. The room was cavernous and filled with the noise of heavy machinery. Ambient light filtered away in clouds of steam and layers of shadows. The could-be Jedi and the Sith battled onto one of the catwalks suspended above the generators, and the metal frame rang with the thudding of their boots and the clash of their lightsabers.

Alone in the power station, hidden from the rest of Theed and its occupants, they intensified their struggle.

The Sith leaped from the bridge on which they fought to the one above, face shining with the heat of the battle and her own peculiar joy.

Ashlyn followed.

Down the length of the catwalk they fought, lightsabers flashing, sparks flying from the metal railing of the walk as they smashed against it.

Then Lady Fackel caught Ashlyn off balance and with a powerful kick knocked her completely over the railing before jumping over herself, landing on a catwalk several levels below her.

After coughing out a little blood, Ashlyn stumbled onto her feet. "I really don't want to fight you, Magdalena."

"Well, that's too bad," replied the Sith as she leaped once more to finally land on the same level as her opponent.

Ashlyn groaned. "Come on, Lena, work with me here. Please— you know how this story goes, L. If we don't do something, a lot of people are gonna die. Do you really want to have that in your conscience for the rest of your life?"

Lady Fackel scoffed. "Like you care."

Ashlyn gave her a broken look. "Of course I care, Lena— you're my best friend, my  _sister_. And I promised, remember?"

Ashlyn took a step forward as she began to recite the promise she had made so long ago, " _Even if I could leave, I'd never leave you. You are my best friend, and as much as I hate to admit it, I need you as much as you need me to keep going on_."

At this point, the golden maniacal glow in Lena's eyes had started to fade.

" _We've known each other for so long that, now, our bond is understandable_." She took another step forward. " _But when I met you, this bond between us... it_ _was_ —"

"Inexplicable, but very strong that it was impossible to get away from," Lena finished as tears welled up in her eyes.

"I promised I would never leave you," said Ashlyn, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm not about to break that promise, Lena. I never will."

The purple plasma blade retracted into its hilt as Lena let out a choked sob. "I know you won't," she squeaked before running forward, straight into Ashlyn.

Dropping her lightsaber the moment Lena ran to her, Ashlyn wound her arms around her best friend and pulled her close, embracing her tightly. Magdalena almost collapsed from how much she was crying as she felt the warmth and welcoming aura surrounding her through her best friend's arms as the latter held her with no reproach or hatred for what she had done to her.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, Lena. I'm sorry I didn't try to bring you back," whispered Ashlyn.

"Are you kidding? I'm in Star Wars! I'm living the dream!" she joked half-heartedly, wiping a few of her tears away.

That was when Ashlyn suddenly remembered, "Oh, shit!"

Lena pulled away completely and gave her a puzzled look. "What?"

"Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan!"

Lena remembered as well. "That's right; they're fighting Maul." Suddenly, her body went rigid, and her face drained with panic. "They're fighting Maul."

Ashlyn frowned at her in confusion. "What? What is it?" she asked after picking up her lightsaber from the ground.

Lena hesitated for a moment before she blurted out her issue in panic. "Before you guys closed in on us, the second thoughts were starting to rise within me. Maul noticed, and then he sort of linked me to him? I don't know how to explain it, but, basically, everything that happens to him happens to me, and vice versa, and that is a huge problem because after he kills Qui-Gon—"

At the mention of the latter dying, Ashlyn felt her heart drop.

"— Obi-Wan kills him."

If it were possible for her heart to drop even further, say ten feet underground, her heart would be there.

"That means you'll be—" Ashlyn couldn't find it in herself to finish. She shook her head, the denial evident on her face. "No. No one is going to die," she said, heading in the direction where she felt the three battling presences to be.

"Ash, if he doesn't die, things will be different, and I don't think it'll exactly be for the better."

Ashlyn spun on her heels, glaring at her friend through furious tears. "I'm not gonna let you die again, Lena!"

"If I have to, then so be it, Ashlyn. I'm ready this time. I've done a lot of bad things here, and I just want to let it go. I want the peace I should've had when I first died."

"What if I want that too? What if I want peace, huh?"

Lena shook her head. "Don't. We've both been given second chances. I used up mine the wrong way, don't do the same as me, Ash. Take this second chance and live this new life to the fullest. You deserve it."

"And you don't?" Ashlyn retorted brokenly, tears now pouring from her eyes.

"I got what I wished for already. Maybe not all of it— I mean, I did end up a Sith rather than a Jedi, but I got to be with you again, even if our first few reunions weren't exactly the best."

She was silent for a moment before she went on. "You know, for the longest time since I've woken up here, I blamed you for my death. But then, I remembered that it wasn't your fault. And that even if it were, I'd still be ready to take a bullet for you."

"Why the hell would you even consider doing that?" Ashlyn demanded.

Lena smiled. "Because I know you, I know you'd do the same, had our roles been reversed. I mean— the times we've encountered here, you've been so willing to give up your life just so I would be rescued and redeemed from the Dark Side."

Ashlyn gave her a soft look. "Because you rescued and redeemed me from my own."

"It's not the same."

"It looks pretty similar to me."

"My point is that,  _when_  you have to let me go... do just that, Ashlyn: let me go. Let me go and live your life."

"Lena..."

Lena rolled her eyes. "I'm not asking you to bang your head and become amnesiac to forget about me. I'm just asking you to move on and live. Don't hold yourself back, because there is so much out there for you."

She then smiled again and held out her right hand in front of her.

"Now, are you ready to fight beside me like we've always said we would? Are you ready to help me kick Maul's ass?"

Ashlyn hesitated for a moment, not wanting to accept after finding out that killing Maul would kill her best friend, but she submitted— it was Lena after all, she could never refuse her best friend, even if her opponent was on a completely different level.

Letting out a small sigh, hazelnut eyes met crystal blue ones as she reached her hand forward and shook Lena's hand.

"Fine, let's kick ass."

Smirking at each other, both girls ignited their sabers in unison before running out of the room, down the halls and into another hangar that looked much like the one they had been battling in. As soon as they ran in, Lena collapsed in pain.

"Lena!" Ashlyn ran back toward her.

Lena quickly waved her off. "No, go on without me. I can't go any further— he's hurting more than I expected— the link is too strong now, I can fell his pain."

"Lena..."

"Go," Lena pressed. "And kill him, you hear me? Don't worry about me, just kill him. Got it, Ashlyn?"

Ashlyn did not reply, knowing she would not be able to do it. Instead, she ran further in and, felt her heart drop when she noticed Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were nowhere to be found, only the Sith Lord, who looked pretty distracted.

Taking advantage of his temporary distraction, Ashlyn forced Darth Maul over the railing he'd been leaning against. Down the Sith Lord tumbled, landing hard on a catwalk several levels below an unconscious Obi-Wan. The force of the fall or perhaps the unexpectedness of it left him visibly stunned, though just when she was about to go after him, she was hit by a blast of the Force that sent her body flying backward into the ground.

By the time she had recovered, she saw Qui-Gon in pursuit of Darth Maul, following him down the catwalk toward a small door at the far end of the power station, unbeknownst to her that Lena was following not far behind.

The Jedi Master went swiftly, legs and arms pumping, lightsaber flashing. He was worn and battered by now, close to exhaustion, but the Sith Lord was on the defensive at last, and he did not want to give him a chance to regroup.

"Qui-Gon!" Ashlyn called after him, trying to catch up, but the Jedi Master did not slow.

 _He kills_ _Qui-Gon_...

No, she was not going to let that happen. Clenching her jaw, Ashlyn pushed her legs harder and started running faster.

One after the other, the three antagonists passed through the small door into a corridor beyond. They were moving quickly in their frenzied chase and were into the corridor before they realized what it was. Lasers ricocheted off buffer struts, pulsing in long bursts of crisscrossing brilliance that segmented the corridor at five points. The lasers had just begun to kick in when the Sith Lord, the Jedi and the Outlander rushed through the entry. Darth Maul, in the lead, got farthest down the corridor and found himself trapped between walls four and five. Qui-Gon, in close pursuit, was caught only one wall away. Ashlyn, who was farthest away in the chase, did not get past even the first wall.

Shocked into immobility by the buzz and flash of the lasers, the antagonists froze where they were, casting about for an escape, finding none.

Qui-Gon took a quick measure of their location. They were in the service corridor for the melting pit, the disposal unit of the power station's residue. The service corridor was armed with lasers against unauthorized intrusion. There would be a shut-off switch somewhere at both ends of the passage, but it was too late to look for it now. The Jedi Knight and the Outlander stared down the laser-riddled corridor at the Sith Lord, who gave them a wicked grin.

 _Don't worry_ , they could read in his dark countenance,  _you won't have long to wait for me_.

Qui-Gon exchanged a meaningful glance with Ashlyn, then dropped into a guarded crouch to meditate and wait.

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Padmé Naberrie, Queen of the Naboo, along with her handmaidens, Jeremy Cordell, and Captain Panaka and his soldiers, followed the passageways that led out of the main hangar through the city and back to the palace. It was a running battle fought building by building, corridor by corridor, against the battle droids who had been left behind to garrison Theed. They encountered the droids both singly and in entire squads, and there was nothing for it each time but to fight their way clear without becoming entangled in a full-fledged engagement.

As a consequence, they avoided a direct route in favor of one less likely to necessitate contact with the droids. At first, they had no choice but to make straight for the palace, fleeing the battle in the main hangar, hoping that speed and surprise would carry them through. When that failed, Panaka began to take a more cautious approach. They used underground tunnels, hidden passageways, and connecting skywalks that avoided the patrols scouting the streets and plazas. When they were discovered, they fought their way clear as quickly as possible and went to ground, all the while continuing steadily on.

In the end, they reached the palace much more quickly than Padmé had dared to hope, entering from a skywalk bridging to a watchtower, then making their way along the palace halls toward the throne room. They were in the midst of this endeavor when an entire patrol of battle droids rounded a corner of the passage ahead of them and opened fire. Padmé and her followers pressed back into the alcoves and doorways of the hall, firing their own weapons in response, searching for a way out. More battle droids were appearing, and alarms were sounding throughout the palace.

Jeremy was hyper-aware of his surroundings, shooting when necessary, and taking cover when shot at, all while trying as hard as he could to keep his eyes on Padmé while trying to widen his attention on the battle as well.

Guilt and hatred for himself suddenly filled him when a blaster shot Padmé on the right side of her torso, causing her to fall back from the blast.

"Padmé!" The name scratched through Jeremy's throat like tape being pulled off bare skin. He rushed over to the fallen Queen and quickly shot his blasters at the approaching droids before he knelt down beside her. "Hey, Pads, look at me."

The girl looked up at him in wonder, her glazed eyes displaying just how out of it she was becoming.

"What... what did you call me?" she mumbled tiredly, letting out a small giggle that brought a slight blush onto the boy's cheeks.

He groaned. "Not the time, Padmé," he grumbled as he wrapped one of her arms around his shoulders and hauled her up onto her feet. "Upsy daisy."

"Captain!" he then shouted at Panaka above the din of weapons fire. "We don't have time for this!"

Panaka's sweat-streaked face glanced about hurriedly. "Let's try outside!" he shouted back.

Turning his blaster on a tall window, he blew out the frame and transparisteel. While the Queen's handmaidens and the bulk of the Naboo soldiers provided covering fire, Jeremy scooped the Queen into his arms and together, with Panaka and half a dozen guards, broke from cover and climbed swiftly out the shattered window.

But now the young outlander, Padmé and her defenders found themselves trapped on a broad ledge six stories above a thundering waterfall and catchment that fed into a series of connecting ponds dotting the palace grounds.

Pressed against the stone wall, Jeremy cast about furiously for an escape route. Panaka shouted at his men to use their ascension guns, motioning toward a ledge four stories farther up on the building. The Naboo pulled the grapple-line units from their belts, fitted them to the barrels of their blasters, pointed them skyward, and fired. Slender cables uncoiled like striking snakes; the steel-clawed ends embedding themselves in the stone.

Swiftly Jeremy, with Padmé now clinging to him from his back, and the other Naboo activated the ascension mechanism and were towed up the wall. From behind, in the hallway where her handmaidens and the rest of the Naboo soldiers still held the battle droids at bay, the firing grew more intense. Padmé ignored the sounds, forcing herself to continue ahead with the help of Jeremy.

When they were on the ledge above, they cast away the cables, and Panaka used his blaster on a window to open a way back into the building. Transparisteel and permacrete shards lay everywhere as they climbed through once more, finding themselves in yet another hallway. They were close to the throne room now; it lay only another story up and several corridors back. Padmé felt a fierce exultation. She would have the Neimoidian Viceroy as her prisoner yet!

But the thought was no sooner completed than a pair of destroyer droids wheeled around one end of the hallway, swiftly transforming into battle mode. Mere seconds later, a second pair appeared at the other end, weapons held at the ready.

In a hollow, mechanical monotone, the foremost of the droids ordered them to throw down their weapons.

Jeremy hesitated. He didn't like the idea of being weaponless, especially when he had given his word that he would protect the Queen with all he had; but there was no possibility for an escape unless they went back out the window, and if they did that, they would be trapped on the ledge and rendered helpless. They could try to fight their way free, but while they stood a reasonable chance against battle droids, they were seriously over^matched by their more powerful cousins.

In the wake of this chilling assessment, an inspired thought occurred to her, a solution that might give them the victory they sought in spite of their situation. She straightened, held out her arms in surrender, and tossed aside her blaster.

"Throw down your weapons," she ordered Captain Panaka and his soldiers. "They win this round."

Panaka blanched. "But, Your Majesty, we can't—"

"Captain," Padmé interrupted, her eyes locking with his. "I said to throw down your weapons."

Panaka gave her a look that suggested he clearly thought she had lost her mind. Then he dropped his blaster to the floor and motioned for his men to do the same.

The destroyer droids skittered forward to take them prisoner. But before they reached the Naboo, Padmé was able to complete a quick transmission on her comlink.

"Have faith, Captain," she urged a bewildered Panaka, her voice cool and collected as she slipped the comlink out of sight again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Things were not going well for the Gungan army. Like the Naboo, the Gungans were no match for the destroyer droids. Slowly, but surely, they were being pushed back, unable to stand against the relentless Trade Federation attack. Here and there along with their beleaguered lines, cracks were beginning to appear in their defense.

Jar Jar was at the heart of one of those points.

For a time, his had been one of the strongest positions, his soldiers rallied by what they mistakenly believed to be his unrivaled bravery, turning a rout into a counterattack. But the counterattack had extended itself too far, and with the appearance of the destroyer droids, it collapsed completely. Now Jar Jar and his comrades were in flight, falling back to where the rest of the army crouched in the shadow of the generator shield, desperately trying to find a way to regroup.

Jar Jar, his kaadu long since lost, was running for his life. Desperate to increase the distance between himself and the pursuing destroyer droids, he caught up with a fleeing wagon filled with dozens of the energy balls used by the Gungan catapults. Grabbing hold of the wagon gate, he tried to haul himself into the bed, the wagon jouncing and creaking over the uneven ground. But in his effort to save himself, he unwittingly released the latch on the gate, causing it to flop open. Energy balls released out the back in a wild tumble, bouncing and rolling backward in a swarm. Jar Jar danced out of the way, scrambling to avoid being struck.

He was successful in this, but the less nimble destroyer droids on his heels were not.

Energy balls smashed into them, exploding on contact, and droid after droid went up in a rain of fire and shattered metal.

"Tis good!" Jar Jar howled in glee, watching the Federation droids wheeling this way and that in an effort to escape the carpet of energy balls rolling into them.

Elsewhere, however, the battle was taking a turn for the worse. Destroyer droids had broken through the Gungan lines fronting the shield generators and were firing their weapons into the machines over and over. The fambaa on which the generators rode shuddered and dropped to their knees, the generators smoking and sparking. Abruptly, the force field began to waver and fade. OOM-9, watching it all through electro-binoculars, was quick to report back to the Neimoidian command. Federation tanks were ordered forward at once, their guns firing anew.

When General Ceel saw the shield generators lose power, he realized the battle was lost. The Gungans had done all they could for the Queen of the Naboo. Turning to his staff, he signaled for a retreat. The battle horns sounded the call, wailing out across the grasslands, and the entire Gungan army began to fall back.

Jar Jar had gained control of a new mount and was riding madly for the safety of the swamp. Fleeing in the midst of pursuing droids and tanks, he had his kaadu blown out from under him and was thrown sideways onto the back of a nearby tank's gun turret. Hanging on for dear life, he rode the enemy vehicle across the plains as the battle raged on all about him. The droids inside the tank quickly became aware of his presence, and the driver tried to throw him off by swiveling the turret gun from side to side. But Jar Jar had a death grip on the barrel, hugging it tightly to him, and refused to be dislodged.

"Hep me! Hep me!" he screamed out.

Captain Tarpals astride a kaadu worked his way alongside the tank, yelling at Jar Jar to jump. Laser fire ricocheted off the tank, barely missing Jar Jar as he struggled to overcome his fear and break free of his precarious perch. Hatches were beginning to open and droid heads to appear. His eyes widened as he saw weapons being lifted and brought to bear.

He jumped then, flinging himself clear of the tank, landing awkwardly behind the Gungan who had stayed to save him. The kaadu, burdened by two riders, lurched wildly, then righted itself and swerved quickly away.

Explosions mushroomed all around them, sending gouts of dirt skyward, and Jar Jar Binks, arms wrapped around the other rider, eyes closed in terror against the chaos taking place all around him, was pretty sure that this was the end.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Anakin Skywalker, meanwhile, was caught up in the midst of a dogfight between Naboo and Federation starfighters. Still struggling to get off autopilot, he had avoided engagement with the enemy mostly because his craft was flying in an erratic, evasive manner that took it out of combat range every time it got too close for comfort. Fighters were exploding all around him, some so close he could see the pieces as they flew past his canopy.

"Whoo, boy, this is tense!" he breathed as he tried switch after switch on the control panel, the fighter dipping and yawing in response to his unwelcome interference with its operation.

But he was learning the control panel, too, his trial-and-error exploration yielding knowledge of what various switches, buttons, and levers did. The downside to all this was that the firing triggers to the laser guns had locked, and try as he might, he could not find a way to break them free.

He glanced up from his search at a loud beep from Artoo-Detoo to find a pair of Federation fighters approaching him head-on.

"Artoo, Artoo, get us off—"

The astromech droid overrode the rest of what he was going to say with a series of frantic whistles. "I've got control?" Anakin exclaimed in shock.

He seized the steering, flipped on the power feeds, and jammed the thruster bars left. To his surprise and everlasting gratitude, the fighter banked sharply in response, and they shot past the fighters and rode into a new swarm of combatants.

"Yes! I've got control!" Anakin was ecstatic. "You did it, Artoo!"

The astromech droid beeped at him through the intercom, a short, abrupt exchange.

Anakin's eyebrows shot up as he read the display. "Go back to Naboo? Forget it! Qui-Gon told me to stay in this cockpit, and that's what I'm gonna do! Now, hang on!"

His enthusiasm overrode his good sense, and he whipped his fighter toward the center of the battle. All of his flying instincts kicked in, and he was back in the Podraces on Tatooine, a part of his ship, locked in on the intoxicating challenge of winning. Forgotten was his promise to look after Qui-Gon and Ashlyn; they were too far away for him to think about them now. All that mattered was that he had found his way into space, taken command of a starfighter, and been given a chance to live his dream.

An enemy fighter drifted into his sights ahead. "Sit tight, Artoo," he warned. "I'm gonna blast this guy." He brought his ship into firing position behind the Trade Federation craft, remembering belatedly that the triggers to his laser guns were locked. Frantically, he searched for the release.

"Which one, Artoo?" he shouted into his helmet. "How do I fire this thing?" Artoo-Detoo beeped wildly. "Which one? This one?"

He punched the button the astromech droid had indicated, but instead of releasing the firing mechanism, it accelerated the fighter right past the enemy ship.

"Whoa!" Anakin gasped in dismay. Now the Trade Federation fighter was on his tail, maneuvering into firing position against him. Anakin yanked hard on the steering, shooting past the massive Federation battleship, screaming out into the void in a series of evasive actions.

"That wasn't the release!" the boy screamed into his intercom. "That was the overdrive!"

Artoo-Detoo whistled a sheepish reply. The enemy fighter was behind them again and closing. Anakin banked his ship hard to the right and brought it back toward the blockade and the swarming fighters. Wrenching the stabilizers in opposite directions, he began to spin his fighter like a top. Artoo-Detoo shrieked in despair.

"I know we're in trouble!" Anakin shrieked back. "Just hang on! The way out of this mess is the way we got into it!"

He streaked toward the control station, taking the enemy fighter with him. Laser blasts ripped past him, barely missing. He waited a second longer, until he was so close to the battleship that the emblem of the Trade Federation painted on the bridge work loomed like a wall, then engaged the reverse thrusters and banked right again.

His fighter nearly stalled, dropping away like a stone for a heart-wrenching moment before stabilizing. The enemy fighter, on the other hand, had no time to respond to the maneuver and rocketed past him into the side of the battleship, exploding in a shower of fire and metal parts.

Re-engaging the forward thrusters, Anakin wheeled the ship about, searching for new enemies. Through his canopy, he could see a handful of Naboo starfighters engaged in attacking the Trade Federation flagship.

Ric Olie's voice came over the intercom. " _Bravo Three! Go for the central bridge!_ "

" _Copy, Bravo Leader,_ " came the response.

A squad of four fighters plummeted toward the battleship, lasers firing, but the big ship's deflector shields turned the attack aside effortlessly. Two of the fighters were hit by cannon fire and exploded into ash. The remaining two broke off the attack.

" _Their shields are too strong!_ " one of the surviving pilots shouted angrily. " _We'll never get through!_ "

Anakin, in the meantime, was under attack once more. Another Federation fighter had found him and was giving chase. The boy jammed the thruster bars forward and sped down the hull of the flagship, twisting and turning through its channels and around its tangle of protrusions, laser fire ricocheting past in a constant stream.

"I know this isn't Podracing!" Anakin snapped at Artoo-Detoo, as the astromech droid beeped reprovingly at him. But in his heart, it felt as if it were. A fierce glee rushed through him as he whipped the Naboo fighter along the length of the battleship. The speed and the quickness of the battle fed into him in a rush of adrenaline. He would not have been anywhere else for the world!

But this time his luck ran out. As he neared the ship's tail, a laser blast struck his fighter a solid blow, knocking it into a stomach-lurching spin. Artoo-Detoo screamed anew, and Anakin fought desperately to regain control.

"Great gobs of bantha poodoo!" the boy hissed, fighting to stabilize his stricken craft.

He was hurtling directly toward the hull, and he pulled back on the thruster bars, cutting power and drifting into a long slide. He regained control too late to turn back, and pointed the ship toward a giant opening at the battleship's center.

Cannon fire whipped all about him as the droids controlling the flagship's guns tried to bring him down, but he was past them in a microsecond, rocketing into the battleship's cavernous main hangar. Reverse thrusters on full power, dodging transports, tanks, fighters, and stacks of supplies, he struggled to keep his fighter airborne as he looked for a place to land.

Artoo-Detoo was beeping wildly.

"I'm trying to stop!" Anakin shouted in reply. "Whoa! Whoa! I'm trying!"

The Naboo fighter struck the decking and bounced, reverse thrusters powering up in an effort to break the craft. A bulk-head loomed ahead, blocking the way. Anakin brought the fighter down on the decking with a bone-jarring thud and held it there, skidding down the rampway in a screech of metal. The fighter slowed and did a half turn and came to an unsteady halt. The power drive stalled and then failed completely.

Artoo-Detoo whistled in relief.

"All right, all right!" Anakin gasped, nodding to himself. "We're down. Let's get the engines started again and get out of here!"

He ducked down to adjust the feeders to the fuel lines, checking the control panel indicators worriedly. "Lights are all red, Artoo. Everything's overheated."

He was working on the coolants when Artoo-Detoo beeped suddenly in warning. The boy popped his head over the edge of the cockpit and looked out into the hangar. "Oh, oh," he muttered softly.

Dozens of battle droids were approaching across the hangar floor, weapons raised menacingly. Their only escape route was blocked.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ashlyn Cordell prowled the front end of the service corridor to the melting pit like a caged animal. She was furious at herself for getting trapped so far from Qui-Gon and furious with Qui-Gon for letting this happen by rushing ahead instead of waiting for her. But he was worried, too. She could admit it to herself, privately, if only just.

Ashlyn stared down the length of the corridor, measuring the distance she would have to travel to reach Qui-Gon and their antagonist when the lasers paused. She had caught a glimpse of them deactivating while rushing to catch up with Qui-Gon, then of reactivating again in a matter of seconds.

She would have to be quick. Very quick. She did not want the Master facing this tattooed madman alone.

Down the way, pinned between two walls of laser beams, Qui-Gon Jinn knelt in meditation, facing toward the Sith Lord and the melting pit, his head lowered over his lightsaber. He was gathering himself for a final assault, bringing himself in tune with the Force.

Ashlyn did not like the weariness she saw in the slump of the older man's shoulders, in the bow of his back. He was the best swordsman she had ever seen, but, although he looked young, he was growing old.

Beyond, the Sith Lord worked at binding up his wounds, a series of burns and slashes marked by charred tears in his dark clothing. He was backed to the edge of the chamber beyond, keeping a close watch on Qui-Gon, his red and black face intense, his yellow eyes glinting in the half-light. His lightsaber rested on the floor before him. He saw Ashlyn staring and smiled in open derision.

At that instant, the laser beams warding the service corridor went off.

Ashlyn sprinted ahead, launching herself down the narrow passageway, lightsaber raised.

Qui-Gon was on his feet as well, his own weapon flashing. He catapulted through the opening that led into the melting pit and closed with the Sith Lord, forcing him back, out of the passageway completely. Ashlyn put on a new burst of speed, howling out at the antagonists ahead as if by the sound of her voice she could bring them back to her.

Then she heard the buzz of the capacitors kicking in once more, cycling to reactivate the lasers. She threw herself ahead, still too far from the corridor's end. She cleared all the gates, but the last, and the lasers crisscrossed before her in a deadly wall, bringing her to an abrupt stop just short of where she needed to be.

Lightsaber clutched in both hands; she stood watching helplessly as Qui-Gon and Maul battled on the narrow ledge that encircled the melting pit. A stream of electrons was all that separated her from the combatants, but it might as well have been a stone wall three meters thick.

Desperately, she cast about for a triggering device that might shut the system down, but she had no better luck here than she'd had at the other end. She could only watch and wait and pray that Qui-Gon could hold on.

It appeared that the Jedi Master would. He had found a fresh reserve of strength during his meditation, and now he was attacking with a ferocity that seemed to have the Sith Lord stymied. With quick, hard strokes of his lightsaber, he bored into his adversary, deliberately engaging in close-quarters combat, refusing to let the other bring his double-bladed weapon to bear. He drove Darth Maul backward about the rim of the overhang, keeping the Sith Lord constantly on the defensive, pressing in on him steadily. Qui-Gon Jinn might no longer be young, but he was still powerful. Darth Maul's ragged face took on a frenzied look, and the glitter of his strange eyes brightened with uncertainty.

 _Good_ , Ashlyn thought, urging him on voicelessly, anticipating Qui-Gon's sword strokes as if they were her own.

Then Darth Maul back-flipped across the melting pit, giving himself some space in which to recover, gaining just enough time to assume a new battle stance. Qui-Gon was on him in an instant, covering the distance separating them in a rush, hammering into the Sith Lord anew. But he was beginning to weary now from carrying the battle alone. His strokes were not so vigorous as before his face bathed with sweat and taut with fatigue.

Slowly, Darth Maul began to edge his way back into the fight, becoming the aggressor once more.

 _Hurry the hell up!_  Ashlyn hissed soundlessly, willing the lasers to pause and the gates to come down.

Stroke for stroke, Qui-Gon and Darth Maul battled about the rim of the melting pit, locked in a combat that seemed endless and forever and could be won by neither.

Then the Sith parried a downstroke, whirled swiftly to the right, and with his back to the Jedi Master, made a blind, reverse lunge.

Too late, Qui-Gon recognized the danger.

The blade of the Sith Lord's lightsaber caught him directly in the midsection, its brilliant length burning through clothing, flesh, and bone.

Ashlyn thought she heard the Jedi Master scream, but, then, she realized it was herself, calling her friend's name in despair.

"QUI-GON!!!"

Qui-Gon made no sound as the blade entered him, stiffening with the impact, then taking a small step back as it was withdrawn. He stood motionless for an instant, fighting against the shock of the killing blow. Then his eyes clouded, his arms lowered, and a great weariness settled over his proud features. He dropped to his knees, and his lightsaber clattered to the stone floor, his body slumping forward, motionless.

"NO!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Nute Gunray stood with Rune Haako, and four members of the Trade Federation Occupation Council as Captain Panaka, one of the Queen's handmaidens, a young golden-haired boy, and the six Naboo soldiers who had fought to protect them were marched into the Theed palace throne room by a squad of ten battle droids. The viceroy recognized Panaka at once, but he was unclear as to the identity of the handmaiden who accompanied him, even more of the young man he had never seen before, though his mind was more focused on the Captain and the girl. He was looking for the Queen, and while this handmaiden bore a certain resemblance to her... 

He caught himself in surprise. It was the Queen, without her makeup and ornate robes, stripped of her symbols of office. She looked even younger than she had in ceremonial garb, but her eyes and that cool gaze were unmistakable.

He glanced at Rune Haako and saw the same confusion mirrored in his associate's face. "Your Highness," he greeted as she was led up to him.

"Viceroy," she replied, confirming his conclusion as to her identity.

That settled, he swiftly assumed the pose of a captor confronting his captive. "Your little insurrection is at an end, Your Highness. The rabble army you sent against us south of the city has been crushed. The Jedi are being dealt with elsewhere. And you are my captive."

"Am I?" she asked quietly.

The way she spoke the words was unnerving. There was something challenging in the way she said them as if she were daring him to disagree. Even Panaka turned to look at her.

"Yes, you are." He pressed ahead, wondering suddenly if he had missed something. His face lifted. "It is time for you to put an end to the pointless debate you instigated in the Republic Senate. Sign the treaty now."

There was a commotion outside the doorway leading into the throne room, the sound of blasters and the shattering of metal, and all at once Queen Amidala was standing in the anteway beyond, a clutch of battle droids collapsed on the floor and a handful of Naboo soldiers warding their Queen against the appearance of more.

"I will not be signing any treaty, Viceroy!" she called out to him, already beginning to move away. "You've lost!"

For a moment Nute Gunray was so stunned he could not make himself move. A second Queen? But this was the real one, dressed in her robes of office, wearing her white face paint, speaking to him in that imperious voice he had come to recognize so well.

He wheeled toward the battle droids holding Panaka, the golden-haired stranger and the false Queen at bay. "You six! After her!" He gestured in the direction of the disappearing Amidala. "Bring her to me! The real one, this time— not some decoy!"

The droids he had indicated rushed from the room in pursuit of the Queen and her guards, leaving the Neimoidians and the four remaining droids with their captives.

Gunray wheeled on the handmaiden. "Your Queen will not get away with this!" he snapped, enraged at having been deceived.

The handmaiden seemed to lose all her bravado, turning away from him with her head lowered in defeat, moving slowly toward the Queen's throne and slumping dejectedly into it. Nute Gunray dismissed her almost at once, turning his attention to the other Naboo, anxious to have them taken away to the camps. But in the next instant, the handmaiden was back on her feet, any sign of dejection or weariness banished, a blaster in either hand, pulled from a hidden compartment in the arm of the throne. Tossing one of the blasters to Captain Panaka, she began firing the second into the depleted squad of battle droids. The droids were caught completely by surprise, their attention fixed on the Naboo guards, and the handmaiden and Panaka dispatched them in a flurry of shots that left the throne room ringing with the sound of weapons fire.

Shouting instructions to the Naboo, the handmaiden— if that's who she really was, because by now Nute Gunray was beginning to think otherwise— moved to the throne room doors, triggering the locks. The doors swung shut, the bolts engaged, and the girl smashed the locking mechanism with the butt of her weapon.

She turned then to the Neimoidians, who were huddled together in confusion at the center of the room, eyes darting this way and that in a futile search for help. All the battle droids lay shattered on the floor, and the Naboo had seized their blasters.

The handmaiden walked up to Gunray. "Let's start again, Viceroy," she said coolly.

"Your Highness," he replied, tight-lipped, realizing the truth too late.

"No, Natalie Portman," Jeremy deadpanned with a sarcastic edge to his tone as he brought out a metal hilt from the back of his belt, under his top and pressed what appeared to be a button on it. Suddenly, the metal hilt projected a brightly lit bronze energy blade about four feet long.

Padmé blinked, surprised at the turn of events, but kept her cool face as she stared blankly at the Viceroy. "This is the end of your occupation."

He stood his ground. "Don't be absurd. There are too few of you. Even with a Jedi by your side, you are doomed; it won't be long before hundreds of destroyer droids break in here to rescue us."

Even before he finished, there was the sound of heavy wheels in the anteway, then of metal bodies unfolding.

The Viceroy permitted himself a satisfied smile. "You see, Your Highness? Rescue is already at hand."

The Queen gave him a hard look. "Before they make it through that door, we will have negotiated a new treaty, Viceroy. And you will have signed it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Free at last of the laser wall, Ashlyn charged out of the service tunnel and into the chamber that housed the melting pit. Abandoning any pretense of observing even the slightest caution, she barreled into Darth Maul with such fury that she almost knocked both of them off the ledge and into the abyss. She struck at the Sith with her lightsaber as if her own safety meant nothing, lost in a red haze of rage and frustration, consumed by her grief for Qui-Gon and her failure to prevent her friend's fall.

The Sith Lord was borne backward by the outlander's initial rush, caught off guard by the other's wild assault, and pressed all the way back to the far wall of the melting pit. There he struggled to keep the young woman at bay, trying to open enough space between them to defend himself. Lightsabers scraped and grated against each other, and the chamber echoed with their fury. Lunging and twisting, Maul regained the offensive and counterattacked, using both ends of his lightsaber in an effort to cut Ashlyn's legs out from under her. But Ashlyn, while not so experienced as Qui-Gon, was quicker. Anticipating each blow, she was able to elude her antagonist's efforts to bring him down.

The struggle took them around the edge of the melting pit and into the nooks and alcoves beyond, into shadowed recesses and around smoky pillars and pipe housings. Twice, Ashlyn went down, losing her footing on the smooth flooring of the melting pit's rim. Once, Maul hammered at her with such determination that he scorched the girl's velvet-satin tunic, shoulder to waist, and it was only by countering with an upthrust counterstrike to the other's midsection and by rolling quickly away and back to her feet that Ashlyn was able to escape.

They fought their way back toward the laser-riddled service passage, past Qui-Gon's still form, and into a tangle of vent tubes and circuit housings. Steam burst from ruptured pipes, and the air was filled with the acrid smell of scorched wiring. Darth Maul began to use his command of the Force to fling heavy objects at Ashlyn, trying to throw her off balance, to disable het, to disrupt the flow of her attack. Ashlyn responded in kind, and the air was filled with deadly missiles. Lightsabers flicked right and left to ward off the objects, and the clash of errant metal careening off stone walls formed an eerie shriek in the gloom.

The battle wore on, and for a time it was fought evenly. But Maul was the stronger of the two and was driven by a frenzy that surpassed even the frantic determination that fueled Ashlyn. Eventually, the Sith began to wear the young woman down. Bit by bit, he pressed her back, carrying the attack to her, looking to catch her off guard. Ashlyn could sense her body weakening, and her fear of what it would mean if she, too, were to fall, began to grow.

 _Never!_  she swore furiously.

Her martial arts Master's words came back to her.

" _Don't center on your fears. Concentrate on the here and now."_

_"You say it like it's easy," she huffed._

_"At times it is, at others, it isn't; you just have to make it."_

She struggled to do so, to contain the emotions warring within and bearing her down.

_"Be mindful of the living Force, child. Be strong."_

_"The Force? Gee, you sound like Lena."_

_"... well, I won't deny my fascination with Star Wars."_

Sensing her opportunity slipping away from her, all her strength waning, Ashlyn mounted a final assault. She rushed the Sith Lord with a series of side blows designed to bring the two-bladed lightsaber horizontal. Then she feinted an attack to her enemy's left and brought her own lightsaber over and down with such force that she severed the other's weapon.

Crying out in a fury, she cut triumphantly at the Sith Lord's horned head, a killing blow. And missed completely.

Darth Maul, anticipating the maneuver, had stepped smoothly away. Discarding the lesser half of his severed weapon, he counterattacked swiftly, striking at Ashlyn with enough force that he knocked the young woman sideways and off balance. Quickly he struck her again, harder still, and this time Ashlyn lost her footing completely and tumbled over the edge of the pit, her lightsaber flying from her hand. For an instant, she was falling, tumbling away into the dark. She reached out in desperation and caught hold of a metal ring just below the lip of the pit.

There she hung, helpless, staring up at a triumphant Darth Maul.

Maul walked slowly to the edge of the melting pit, tattooed face bathed in sweat, eye wild and bright with joy.

The battle was finished.

 _The One_  was about to be dispatched. He smiled and shifted the remnant of his shattered lightsaber from one hand to the other, savoring the moment.

Eyes fixed on the Sith Lord,  Ashlyn Cordell went deep inside herself, connecting with the Force she had never believed to exist. Calming herself, stilling the trembling of her heart, and banishing her anger and fear, she called upon the last of her reserves. With clarity of purpose and strength of heart, she launched herself away from the side of the pit and catapulted back toward its lip. Imbued with the power of the Force, she cleared the rim easily, somersaulting behind the Sith Lord in a single smooth, powerful motion. Even as she landed, she was drawing Qui-Gon Jinn's fallen lightsaber to her outstretched hand.

Darth Maul whirled to confront her, shock and rage twisting his red and black face. But before either of them could act— Maul to save himself and Ashlyn to throw her final blow— an invisible force slashed through his chest, burning him with killing fire. The stricken Sith Lord howled in pain and disbelief.

Ashlyn watched, shocked and confused as she watched her enemy tumble away into the pit. But then it hit her like a bulldozer when she heard the buzzing sound of a plasma blade retracting into its hilt, followed by a gasp full of pain, and a thump.

Ashlyn wheeled around, eyes wide as she stared at the smaller fallen figure, lying near the larger already motionless one.

Dropping the lightsaber she held, she quickly rushed over, bent down and grabbed the fragile body into her arms.

"Lena? Lena. Hey! Lena! Hey!" she called out to the once again blonde girl. Not wanting to believe she was dead, Ashlyn continued to try and wake her.

"Hey, Lena. Breathe. You're okay. Lena?" Ashlyn started to weep as she cradled Magdalena's limp, lifeless body. "Stay with me. Stay with me, please. You stay with me. Lena. Magdalena! Come on! Don't leave me! Please, don't leave again!" She held onto her body as she continued to weep.

Her eyes brimmed with tears as they stayed trained onto the body lying in her arms. Her heartbeat was erratic, and her fingers were trembling as she fell to the ground on her knees, shifting Lena's body, so her head was resting on her lap and finally letting the tears escape her now hazel but eyes. The black corset-like she wore over her long-sleeve shirt and dark trousers that adorned her body were torn, burned, top drenched in blood from the fight that she wasn't even a part of, causing Ashlyn to whimper.

The small figure peered up at her through half-lidded, now sky blue eyes, "Ash..." she whispered as Cordell squeezed her eyes shut and let out loud sobs, shaking her head in denial.

"No, Lena, please, you can't die. Please don't leave me."

Her tall frame was trembling as she ran a hand down her friend's pale cheek, a small smile making its way onto Lena's face as tears dripped down her own face.

"Ash... please.... don't be sad," she choked out causing Ashlyn's eyes to shoot open as they blazed with many emotions.

"Don't be sad?! How can I not be sad? I love you, Lena! You're my sister, and I love you, please don't die! I need you!" she shouted, sobs racked her body as she leaned down closer to her, her lips hovering over the dying girl's forehead.

She pulled away and stared down at her in horror as Lena's eyes began to slowly shut, "I love you too, Ash... I promise you."

She heard her shallow breaths disappear as all warmth left her body, Ashlyn buried her face into her golden hair, "No! No, no, no! Lena? Lena! Please! Please wake up, please d-don't leave me! Come back... come back to me..." she murmured, shaking her body, hoping she would wake up.

She frantically glanced up, eyes looking over at the other lifeless body.

"Qui-Gon?" she whimpered. "Qui-Gon!"

Of course, what was expected happened: she got no reply.

She let out a heart-shattering scream. She ignored the blood seeping from her own wound. She could feel her heart pounding hard against her chest as it started slowing down. She knew what was going on and though she never expected it would actually happen like this, that it would all end this way, she didn't care. She was ready for it. She was ready for her heart to stop beating.

Ashlyn's hands let go of the lifeless body they'd held moments ago and went to clutch her chest as she started breathing visibly heavily.

She could hear a faint voice calling her name, asking where she was, but she didn't care. She was furious at Qui-Gon for not listening to her and running ahead instead of waiting for her. She was furious at her best friend for giving up her life for her again. She was furious at her mother for being weak and letting herself get killed all those years ago. She was furious at her father for getting involved with a group of mobsters that would put their lives in danger, and for maniacally chasing her and killing her. She was furious at her brothers for getting themselves killed. She was furious at herself, at life, with its unfairness. How could it do this to her? Take away her family? The first boy she ever loved— her friends, and not give a damn about the fact that she was only sixteen?

This was impossible, this just couldn't be happening. Body standing on its own, her eyes darted around wildly as she searched for something to take her anger out on. Pulling the Force at her will, she grabbed the many metal pieces that Maul had previously aimed at her and threw them against the metal walls, renting and destroying a few. In the midst of her rage, she recalled a scream spilling through her lips; it continued to echo throughout the chamber as she thrashed around and beat anything in her path.

"No!" she shrieked.

She fell back down onto her knees, between Lena and Qui-Gon, and shook the fallen Jedi roughly; he didn't budge. Ashlyn pounded her fists against the iron ground forming small dents into it. She got back up and started hitting the nearest wall harder and harder, ignoring the slowing of her heartbeat. Ignoring the disheveling skin and blood now pouring from her knuckles. She stopped, raked a bloody hand through her hair as her glossy eyes wandered around frantically and furiously.

Where did that seemingly endless pit take Maul to? Where was  _Marino_? She wanted to find them— she wanted to kill them. She didn't care that one of them was already dead, she didn't care that the other was light years away— both tried to kill her, and it was Maul's fault Qui-Gon was dead. It was both their fault he and Lena were dead.

She slumped back down beside the bodies and kept crying, her head against the cold floor, as dark spots infiltrated her field of view.

Ashlyn whimpered as she used the last of her strength and brought both bodies closer to her, wrapping her arms around them as best as she could. If she were going to die now, she would at least die with people she cared deeply for by her side.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Obi-Wan did not pause to consider what it must have cost her to win her victory over Darth Maul when he saw her hunched over two bodies.

He instantly rushed over, his mind going haywire over the possibility of her having gone through the same fate as their enemy had, but found himself being a tad bit relieved when he saw her wide awake. However, his relief was short lived when he noticed how blank the look in her half-lidded eyes was. His own gaze shifted down, following the arm that hung loosely around the largest figure, and he instantly knelt down at the Jedi Master's side, lifting his head and shoulders and cradling him gently in his arms, Ashlyn's arm caught in between them, though she remained unmoving.

"Master!" he breathed in a whisper.

Qui-Gon's eyes opened, causing the girl's attention to slightly snap back to reality, her glazed over eyes flickering down to the dying man. "Too late, my young Padawan."

"No!" Obi-Wan shook his head violently in denial.

Ashlyn uttered no word.

"Now you must be ready, whether the Council thinks you so or not. You must be the teacher." The strong face of the Jedi Master twisted in pain, but the dark eyes were steady. "Obi-Wan. Promise me you will train the boy."

Obi-Wan nodded instantly, agreeing without thinking, willing to say or do anything that would ease the other's pain, desperate to save him. "Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon's breathing quickened. "He is the chosen one, Obi-Wan. He will bring balance to the Force. Train him well."

His eyes locked on Obi-Wan's for a brief moment before flickering over to the girl, looking her deep in the eyes one last time, the prideful gaze a father would have for a daughter shining in his eyes before they lost focus. His breathing stopped. The strength and the life went out of him.

"Master," Obi-Wan Kenobi repeated softly, still holding him, bringing him closer now, hugging the lifeless body against his chest, and crying softly. "Master."

The Outlander blinked, eyes rapidly shifting between the two motionless figures her arms were wound about before the tears began falling once again, small, barely visible drops.

Three days later, outside the room Obi-Wan found himself nervously pacing around in, Ashlyn Cordell stood outside in the corridor of the Theed temple in which the deaths of heroes were mourned and their lives celebrated. Qui-Gon Jinn's and Magdalena Rosales' bodies lay in state on a bier in the plaza just outside, awaiting cremation. Already the citizenry and officials of the Naboo and the Gungan peoples were gathering to honor the Jedi Master and the outlander who valiantly gave her life to end thus of the Sith.

Much had changed in the lives of those who had fought in the struggle for Naboo sovereignty. With the collapse of the droid army, the Trade Federation's control over Naboo had been broken. All of the ground transports, tanks, STAPs, and weapons and supplies were in the hands of the Republic. Viceroy Nute Gunray, his lieutenant, Rune Haako, and the remainder of the Neimoidian occupation council had been shipped as prisoners to Coruscant to await trial. Senator Palpatine had been elected as supreme chancellor of the Republic, and he had promised swift action in the dispensing of justice to the captives. Queen Amidala had outfoxed the Neimoidians one final time by pretending to surrender so she could gain safe access to the viceroy before he had time to flee. She had communicated to Sabé to break away from the struggle taking place several floors below and to use the service passages to reach the Queen's chambers and then make her appearance before the viceroy. It was a calculated risk, and Sabé might not have been able to get there in time. Had she not, Amidala would have triggered the secret compartment release and fought for her freedom in any case. She was young, but she was not without courage or daring. She had shown intelligence and insight from the beginning of the time the Jedi had come to assist her.

Jeremy thought she would make a very good Queen.

But it was a nine-year-old boy who had saved them all. Even without knowing exactly what he was doing, Anakin had flown a starfighter into the teeth of the Federation defense, penetrated their shields, landed in the belly of the Neimoidian flagship, torpedoed the ship's reactor, and set off a chain reaction of explosions that destroyed the control station. It was the destruction of the central transmitter that had caused the droid army to freeze in place, their communications effectively short-circuited. Anakin claimed not to have attacked with any sort of plan in mind or fired his starfighter's torpedoes with any expectation of hitting the reactor. But after hearing the boy's tale and questioning him thoroughly, Obi-Wan believed Anakin was guided by something more than the thinking of ordinary men. That extraordinarily high midi-chlorian count gave the boy a connection to the Force that even Jedi Masters on the order of Yoda might never achieve. Qui-Gon, he now believed, had been right.

Anakin Skywalker was the chosen one.

But what of Ashlyn? Hadn't Qui-Gon said she was  _The One_? What did that even mean? And what of Jeremy— the Outlander related to the nine-year-old, yet grown up in another universe?

He paced the room, dressed in fresh clothing for the funeral, soft, loose-fitting, sand-colored Jedi Knight garb, his new lightsaber hanging from his belt. The Jedi Council had come to Naboo for the funeral and to speak again with Anakin and Jeremy. They were doing so now, close by, making a final assessment based on what had transpired since their last session with the boy. Obi-Wan thought the outcome of their deliberations must be a foregone conclusion. He could not imagine now that it wouldn't be.

He stopped his pacing and stared momentarily at nothing, thinking of Qui- Gon Jinn, his Master, his teacher, his friend. He had failed Qui-Gon in life.

"It wasn't your fault," a voice rang softly through his ears. "If anything, it was mine."

Obi-Wan discovered that, even in a time of grief, he could never stop being blown away by the almost impossible beauty Ashlyn had seemed to become.

The girl was changed into an outfit entirely different to the ones he'd gotten used to seeing her wear, but, though her discomfort in the new attire was but too clear in the tension in her body and the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Her face was so blank it was almost frightening. Her eyes, however, were practically the definition of the eyes being the doors to one's soul as all of her emotions— sorrow, pain, anger, guilt, grief— ran wildly within them.

But no matter what she wore, or the look on her face, Obi-Wan knew that natural beauty she possessed would undoubtedly never disappear. However, he could not deny that he was shocked to see her wearing a dress. Never mind it being a dress, but more the fact she was she wearing one like that— a black velvet satin gown.

Her words suddenly resurfacing in his mind, he looked at her, eyes steady as they gazed intently into her own hazel eyes.

_It wasn't your fault. If anything, it was mine._

No, that wasn't true. Unlike him, she had fought. Unlike him, she had tried to save Qui-Gon.

But, for some reason, comfort seemed like the last thing she wanted to hear. It was like she wanted the world to blame her. But he wasn't the world; he wasn't going to do that.

"It wasn't your fault," he said.

Her brows twitched slightly as her gaze practically burned his face with its intensity. "But?"

Obi-Wan frowned. But what? How, in any way, was it her fault anyway?

"It just wasn’t your fault."

This time, Ashlyn's stoic face twisted into a frown. "Why do you do that?" she whispered.

"Do what?"

"Defend me!" she grumbled. "Why aren't you swearing at me, insulting me— why don't you hate me?! Qui-Gon is dead because of me!"

Obi-Wan took a deep breath to remain calm as she continued to rambled furiously, then couldn't help but chuckle, despite the grieving situation. It was rather ironic how the tables had turned; usually, she was the one who remained calm while he was the one furiously questioning others' reckless thoughts or decisions.

" _Hate you_?" he intercepted, cutting her off mid-rant. "Why should I hate you?" Looking at him incredulously, she opened her mouth to reply, but he beat her to the chase. "It wasn't your fault, any more than it was mine."

"And yet you still blame yourself," she deadpanned. "You were unconscious; there was nothing you could've done to prevent it."

"And you were trapped."

"But  _I_   _could_  have saved him, Obi-Wan, I knew he was gonna die!"

Although he had suspected as such, Obi-Wan did not know what to say as he knew anything he would say she'd be against because the truth was: it really was her fault. Yet it wasn't as well. She'd known that if she killed the Sith, her best friend would die. But she'd also known that if she didn't kill him, Qui-Gon would die. That was why she'd been trapped. Well... there were also the laser-built security walls that had kept her at bay while the Sith battled the Jedi Master. But, all in all, she was trapped in an equation where both results would be disastrous.

Despite knowing what was to come, the fact that she tried with all her might to prevent it made the fault slip from over her head. That was why Obi-Wan didn't blame her, even less hate her.

"I knew he was gonna die, but I didn't dare myself to kill Maul because if I killed him, I would've killed Lena. I didn't want either of them to die, Obi-Wan. I didn't want to become like him— I didn't want to become like the people who'd been chasing me my whole life. I thought that if I— if I just caught him— but, God, I was so stupid! I should've... I should've listened to Lena. I should've killed him... but I couldn't, and I'm so, so sor—"

He cut her off by grabbing her face and kissing her as if there was no tomorrow. She was shocked as she felt the familiar tingling sensation shoot through her body, but couldn't help but melt at his touch as their lips moved in sync. Her hands reached up to his hair, her fingers roaming over the spot his Padawan braid used to be, as he pulled her closer by the waist, deepening the kiss.

After a few minutes had passed, Ashlyn slowly pulled away and bit her lower lip feeling rather awkward and uncomfortable.

"You shouldn't have done that..." she whispered. "You've just finished your time as a Padawan..."

He gave a sheepish look, awkwardness mixed in with it. "I couldn't think of another way to make you stop."

They stared at each other for a moment, not really knowing what to say to each other.

Obi-Wan suddenly laughed softly, shaking his head. "I'm really sorry... I swear I'm not usually this awkward-rendering."

She chuckled half-heartedly. "It's alright; I'm not usually like this either."

Obi-Wan grinned, slight mischief flashing half-heartedly through his eyes. "Yeah." He nodded. "You seem more like the kind of person who never shuts up," he replied.

Ashlyn stared at him for a moment, then let out of slightly tearful yet genuine laugh as she remembered their first encounter. "I'll have you know I am a very calm, quiet and composed person."

"Uh-huh." He nodded. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

She laughed again, then suddenly found her sight becoming blurry as tears began to fill her eyes. "I'm sorry," she croaked.

Obi-Wan immediately pulled her back into his arms, holding her in the warmest, sweetest embrace she'd ever been held in. It brought such a strange sense of familiarity that she suddenly imagined herself at home, with her older brother Charlie hugging her like he used to whenever she felt down. There was so much care in the hug, so much family loving that she ached more inside as the hole in her heart grew wider.

All too suddenly, she pulled out of the comforting embrace and brought a familiar metal from the inside of her cape, and held it out to him.

"He would've wanted you to have it," she said quietly, wiping a few stray tears from her face with her free hand.

Obi-Wan hesitated.

"He would want you to carry on his work now, and honor him in death by fulfilling your promise, no matter what," she said.

"Listen to you," he said, smiling ruefully. "You sound like him."

She cracked a barely visible smile as he reached over and placed his hand over hers and thanked her before grabbing the saber from her and replaced the one that hung from his belt with Qui-Gon's.

"Now will you tell me what you're really here for? I know it's not just for the... event, to take the blame from my shoulders, and to give this to me."

She was silent for a few agonizing seconds before she replied.

"Working and running my whole life messed me up pretty bad in the head. Dying and coming back to life in this universe only to be pulled into a war on a planet that's only fictional in my world didn't really help," she said bluntly.

But then she glanced down at the ground, a small smile full of fondness etching onto her lips.

"But someone very dear to me... someone I owe my...  _lives_  to asked me for a favor in return. They asked me to move on and live. To not hold me back, because there is so much out there for me."

She looked up at him and looked deeply into his eyes as she admitted her thoughts to the man who had become a very good friend of hers.

"There was a time I wouldn't have believed that. I guess I still kind of don't, but, for the sake of the friendship we shared, I'll try. Because she deserves that and so much more. She had this... this  _incredible_ dream, growing up. She'd always wanted to be here, meet the most wistful people that were legends amongst all fictional characters. She'd always wanted to fight for good, and though she strayed, she got what she wanted in the end. But not all of it. That's why I'm here. I'm here with hope that I'll be given the chance to fulfill my promise to her, and live her dream for her."

"You want to become a Jedi," Obi-Wan realized.

Ashlyn shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself. "I see it more as an act with honoring intentions toward a deceased," she replied, suddenly feeling awkward again.

He stared at her for a moment before repeating himself. "You want to become a Jedi."

"... yeah." She pursed her lips and added stubbornly. "But it's not really that  _I_  want to. God, the name itself is annoying because of how many times she's spoken about it in the past eight years."

Obi-Wan chuckled softly as he brought something out something from the inside of his robe. "Then you may need this," he said as he held the object out for her to take.

She looked at it curiously and frowned slightly when she realized it to be a lightsaber. Why was he giving it to her, though? She knew it wasn't hers as she'd lost it in her fight against Maul.

"Take it and light it," he encouraged quietly.

Hesitantly, she reached out and took it, staring at it for a moment before she clicked the activator switch, and flinched back slightly as the metal hilt projected a brightly lit energy blade, though, unlike the one she'd had, this one was a deep purple. That was when the realization hit her, making her turn to Obi-Wan with watery eyes.

"She would've wanted you to have it," he said quietly, reaching forward and wiping a few tears that had gone stray down her cheek.

Bringing the blade back into its hilt, she looked at him with eyes full of fondness as she took his hand from her face and held it lightly in her own.

"Thank you, my friend," she said softly.

It was rather painful hearing her call him that, but with the paths, they were both following, and the knowledge in where their dedications lied, he knew that was all they could remain as and, surprisingly, he was okay with that.

He smiled down at her, his eyes mirroring the fondness in her hazel orbs. "As you called me, I am only being a friend."

Before they could exchange any further words, the door opened, and Yoda appeared. He entered the room in a slow shuffle, leaning on his walking stick, his wizened face sleepy-eyed and contemplative.

"Master Yoda," Obi-Wan greeted, hurrying forward to meet him, bowing deferentially, while Ashlyn stood back quietly.

The Jedi Master nodded. "Confer on you the level of Jedi Knight, the Council does. Decided about the boys, the Council is, Obi-Wan," he advised solemnly.

"They are to be trained?"

Ashlyn cracked a smile at his impatience.

The big ears cocked forward, and the lids to those sleepy eyes widened. "So impatient, you are. So sure of what has been decided?"

Obi-Wan bit his tongue and kept his silence, waiting dutifully on the other. Yoda studied him carefully.

"A great warrior, was Qui-Gon Jinn," he gargled softly, his strange voice sad. "But so much more he could have been, if not so fast he had run. More slowly, you must proceed, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan stood his ground. "He understood what the rest of us did not about  _them_."

But Yoda shook his head. "Be not so quick to judge. Not everything, is understanding. Not all at once, is it revealed. Years, it takes, to become a Jedi Knight. Years more, to become one with the Force."

He moved over to a place where the fading light shone in through a window, soft and golden. Sunset approached, the appointed time for their farewell to Qui-Gon and the outlander unknown to the others.

Yoda's gaze was distant when he spoke. "Decided, the Council is," he repeated. "Trained, the boys shall be."

Obi-Wan felt a surge of relief and joy flood through him, and a grateful smile escaped him.

Yoda saw the smile. "Pleased, you are? So certain, this is right?"

Ashlyn cleared her throat and decided to step forward, wanting to know which path her cousin was going to take.

"If I may... er, sir, who is going to mentor my cousin Jeremy?" she asked.

It wasn't really out of curiosity that she was asking; she just wanted to know he would be in good hands.

The little green alien looked up at her through his half-lidded eyes and smiled slightly. "Worry you must not. Under Jedi Master Billaba, young Cordell shall be. In good hands he will be, bright and satisfying his future is."

Trusting his word, Ashlyn bowed before him, respect and gratitude behind the gesture, before taking a step back to let him and Obi-Wan continue their talk.

The wrinkled face tightened. "Clouded, however, young Skywalker's future remains, Obi-Wan. A mistake to train him, it is."

Ashlyn frowned from where she stood as she heard that.

Obi-Wan did not like hearing this either. "But the Council—"

"Yes, decided." The sleepy eyes lifted. "Disagree with that decision, I must."

There was a long silence as the two faced each other, listening to the sounds of the funeral preparations taking place without. Obi-Wan did not know what to say. Clearly, the Council had decided against the advice of Yoda. That in itself was unusual. That the Jedi Master chose to make a point of it here emphasized the extent of his concerns about Anakin Skywalker.

Obi-Wan spoke carefully. "I will take this boy as my Padawan, Master. I will train him in the best way I can. But I will bear in mind what you have told me here. I will go carefully. I will heed your warnings. I will keep close watch over his progress."

Yoda studied him a moment, then nodded. "Your promise, then, remember well, young Jedi," he said softly. "Sufficient, it is, if you do."

Obi-Wan bowed in acknowledgment. "I will remember," he said before leaving the Jedi Master with the outlander.

"As for you, young Cordell," Ashlyn's head snapped up as she was addressed by the wistful creature. "Decided it has been, that you shall be trained."

The girl blinked in surprise. "Bu— yo— how did you..."

"Know? Works in strange ways does the Force. But never questioned must it be. Came in full strength has your acceptance in it. Under Jedi Master Windu's wing will you be."

Ashlyn was speechless as she stared down at Yoda, eyes wide with shock at how quick their acceptance of her enrollment was.

Yoda smiled at the look on her face. "Shocked, you are? So doubtful this is right?"

"I'm just... and you..." She pursed her lips and furrowed her brows. "I'm not questioning your decision... okay, maybe I am, but... why would you let me be trained to become a Jedi?"

"Whispers good things about you does the Force. Great things you will do one day, that means. Faith you must have in us and our decision."

Ashlyn was silent yet again for a long moment before she spoke anew. "Then all I ask for is one thing. I know it is not my place to ask such as you've gifted me with a home already, but all I ask is for you and your fellow Jedi in the Council to let me protect the Queen of Naboo when absolute need be. I have pledge my loyalties and alliance to her before the Jedi, and I would like very much so to keep my word."

Yoda contemplated her demand for a long moment, his half-lidded eyes staring intently at her as he studied her. Finally, a small smile crossed his wrinkled face, his eyes crinkling as they practically closed. "Worry not, young outlander; to protect her, allowed you are."

Ashlyn stared down at him for a long moment before she bowed in gratitude. "I thank you, Master Yoda, from the bottom of my heart, and I assure you now, you will not regret making this decision."

Yoda hummed. "Believe so, do I too."

Then, together, they went out into a blaze of light.

The funeral pyre was lit, the fire building steadily around the bodies of Qui-Gon Jinn and Magdalena Rosales, the flames slowly beginning to envelop and consume them. Those who had been chosen to honor them encircled the pyre.

Queen Amidala stood with her handmaidens, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, Governor Sio Bibble, Captain Panaka, and an honor guard of one hundred Naboo soldiers. Boss Nass, Jar Jar Binks, and twenty Gungan warriors stood across from them. Linking them together were the members of the Jedi Council, including Yoda and Mace Windu. Another clutch of Jedi Knights, those who had known Qui-Gon longest and best, completed the circle.

Anakin stood with Obi-Wan, his young face intense as he fought to hold back his tears. Jeremy stood a few people away, his face mirroring the pain in his cousin's who stood beside him, the only comfort to each other being their shoulders brushing against the others.

A long, sustained drum roll traced the passage of the flames as they reduced Qui-Gon and Magdalena to spirit and ash. When the fire had taken them away, a flight of snowy doves was released into a crimson sunset. The birds rose in a flutter of wings and a splash of pale brilliance, winging swiftly away.

Ashlyn found herself remembering. For her entire life, she'd had a goal. An oath she had made to herself and to her best friends without them knowing about it. Now they were gone, and Ashlyn had passed out of an old life and into a new. Now she was going to study to live her best friend's dream and become a Jedi Knight. Everything that had gone before was behind a door that had closed on her forever. It was hard to accept, and at the same time, it gave her an odd sense of release. She looked over at Anakin and felt her heart drop instantly; the boy was staring at the ashes of the funeral bier, crying softly.

She shuffled over to him, Jeremy right at her heels as she stopped beside the young boy and put her hand on one slim shoulder. "He is one with the Force, Anakin. You must let him go."

The boy shook his head. "I miss him."

Ashlyn nodded, the sadness finally seeping into her features. "I miss him, too," she said softly. "And I will always remember him. But he is gone."

Anakin wiped the tears from his face. "What will happen to me now?"

Another hand was placed on his other shoulder. "I will train you, just as Qui-Gon would have done," Obi-Wan Kenobi said softly. "I am your new Master, Anakin. You will study with me, and you will become a Jedi Knight, I promise you."

The boy straightened, a barely perceptible act.

Obi-Wan nodded to himself.  _Somewhere_ , he thought,  _Qui-Gon Jinn would be smiling_.

Across the way, Mace Windu stood with Yoda, his strong dark face contemplative as he watched Obi-Wan and the outlander put their hand on Anakin Skywalker's shoulders, sending comfort into him.

"One life ends, and a new one begins in the Jedi order," he murmured, almost to himself. "Or rather new  _ones_."

Yoda hunched forward, leaning on his gnarled staff, and shook his head. "Not so sure of  _this_  one as of Qui-Gon, do I feel. Troubled, he is. Wrapped in shadows and difficult choices."

Mace Windu nodded. He knew Yoda's feelings on the matter, but the Council had made its decision. "So is that Cordell boy, but I have no doubt in Master Billaba's abilities. As for Obi-Wan, I know he will do a good job with Skywalker," he said, shifting the subject. "Qui-Gon was right. He is ready. Cordell..."

"Troubled, the girl is too. Trapped in a dark past and confused, she is."

"She is too... emotional," Mace Windu agreed. "But she is willing to step away from the past and into a brighter future. That is the kind of will that is needed to succeed in this profession. She is ready for this, I can feel it."

They knew of what the young girl had to go through to save herself from the Sith Lord in the melting pit after Qui-Gon had been struck down. It took an act of extraordinary courage and strength of will to move on from that and remain strong albeit the burning scars.

"Ready this time, she is," Yoda acknowledged grudgingly. "Ready to train, she may not be."

"Defeating a Sith Lord in combat is a strong test of her readiness for anything," the Council leader pressed. His eyes closed in on Ashlyn. "There is no doubt. The one who tested her was a Sith."

Yoda's sleepy eyes blinked. "Always two there are. No more, no less. A master and an apprentice."

Mace Windu nodded. "Then which one was destroyed, do you think the master or the apprentice?"

They looked at each other now, but neither could provide an answer to the question. Their attention zeroed back in on the eldest outlander as she moved slightly away from the group and forward toward the fiery pyre, her hands fisting around the skirt of her gown as she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, her soft voice pouring smoothly out through her lips in a soft melody. The murmurs quieted down, and the gathered crowd turned their attention to the girl in the plain black gown as her voice rang loudly across the still lit burning pyre.

" _If I die young, bury me in satin, lay me down on a bed of roses_ ," she sang, her lungs strong and her voice loud despite the softness coating it. " _Sink me in a river at dawn, send me away with the words of a love song._ "

The many people who had already been in tears from the reminiscence of the previous events practically burst into another fit of silent sobs at the beauty and sadness of the words and the voice that flowed through the room.

" _Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother; she'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh, and life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no; ain't even grey, but she buries her baby. The sharp knife of a short life, oh... well, I've had just enough time_."

She sang only a short part of the song that was foreign to all except herself and Jeremy, and yet it still seemed so long, but it was just so beautiful what with the way she poured her emotions into each note she sang.

" _If I die young, bury me in satin, lay me down on a bed of roses; sink me in a river at dawn, send me away with the words of a love song. The sharp knife of a short life, oh... well, I've had just enough time..._ "

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

" _A penny for my thoughts, oh, I'll sell 'em for a dollar_ ," she sang, her voice slightly trembling at that moment. " _They're worth so much more after I'm a goner, and maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'; funny when you're dead how people start listenin'..._ "

She trailed off for a moment, an agonizing silence lingering in the air before her voice took the spotlight anew.

" _If I die young, bury me in satin, lay me down on a bed of roses; sink me in a river at dawn, send me away with the words of a love song. Oh, woah!_ " One of her hands flew to her chest where she gripped firmly onto the fabric of her gown. " _The sharp knife of a short life, oh... well, I've had just enough time..._ "

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That night, Darth Sidious stood alone on a balcony, overlooking the city, a shadowy figure amid the multitude of twinkling lights, his visage dark and angry as he contemplated the loss of his apprentice. Years of training had gone into the preparation of Darth Maul as a Sith Lord. He had been more than the equal of the Jedi Knights he had faced and should have been able to defeat them easily. It was bad luck and chance that had led to his death, a combination that even the power of the dark side could not always overcome.

Not in the short run, at least.

His brow furrowed. It would be necessary to replace Darth Maul. He would need to train another apprentice. Such a one would not be easy to find. But then again, there was...

Darth Sidious walked to the railing and put his hands on the cool metal. One thing was certain. Those responsible for killing Darth Maul would be held accountable. Those who had opposed him would not be forgotten. All would be made to pay.

His eyes glittered. Still, he had gotten what he wanted most from this business. Even the loss of Darth Maul and Lady Fackel— the traitor— was worth that. He would bide his time. He would wait for his chance. He would lay the groundwork for what was needed.

A smile played across his thin lips. A day of reckoning would come about soon enough.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There was a grand parade the following day to publicly recognize the newfound alliance of the Naboo and Gungan peoples, to celebrate their hard-fought victory over the Trade Federation invaders, and to honor those who had fought to secure the planet's freedom. Crowds lined the streets of Theed as columns of Gungan warriors astride kaadu and Naboo soldiers aboard speeders rode through the city to the sounds of cheering and singing. Fambaa lumbered down the avenues, draped in rich silks and embroidered harnesses, heads weaving from side to side on long necks. Here and there, a captured Federation tank hovered amidst the marchers, Naboo and Gungan flags flying from cannons and hatchways. Jar Jar and General Ceelled the Gungans, both riding their kaadu, Jar Jar managing to stay aboard this time for the entire parade, though he looked to those in attendance to be having a bit of trouble doing so. 

Captain Panaka and the Queen's own guards stood at the top of the stone steps in the central plaza, watching the parade approach. Panaka's uniform was creased, metal insignia on his epaulets gleaming, proud and strong.

Ashlyn stood with Jeremy near the Queen, Anakin, and Obi-Wan a little further away, on the Queen's other side. She was feeling out of place and embarrassed. She thought the parade wonderful, and she appreciated being honored with the others, but her mind was elsewhere.

It was with Qui-Gon, gone back into the Force.

It was with Padmé, who had barely spoken to her since she had been accepted for training by the Jedi Council.

It was with Jeremy and Anakin, whom she had no doubt she would not see for a long time once the feast would end.

It was with her home, to which she knew she would never return.

It was with her family and her best friends, whom she wished she could see now.

She didn't wear the clothing of a Jedi Padawan as she wanted to live her last day as herself to the fullest before she gave into the morals and lifestyle of a Jedi. Her hair fell in waves a few inches past her shoulders, each smooth strand a lighter, browner shade, the only speck that showed she was a padawan being the thin braid that fell over her right silver and gold lace-covered shoulder. She wore a beautiful ivory silk gown. It was much like the one she'd worn the previous day, the most prominent difference being the color of which was ivory, while the gown she'd worn before had been black as night. The neckline of the gown plunged to the navel, and while the skirt of the black gown had been split to the thigh, and had a matching cape that enhanced the impact tenfold, this majestic ivory garment was gorgeous with its floor-sweeping skirt, and its simpleness filled with subtle elegance; it suited Ashlyn perfectly.

Jeremy, on the other hand, much like Anakin, wore the clothing of a Jedi Padawan, his hair cut short in the Padawan style, a student in training to become a Knight of the order.

Both had achieved all that they had hoped in coming with Qui-Gon to Coruscant and beyond. Whilst Jeremy was not sure how to feel as his feelings almost as all over the place as Ashlyn's, Anakin felt he should have been happy and satisfied, and he was. But his happiness and satisfaction were clouded by the sadness he could not banish at losing Qui-Gon and his mother both. They were lost to him in different ways, to be sure, but they were gone out of his life. Qui-Gon had provided the stability he required to leave his mother behind. With the Jedi Master's death, Anakin was left adrift. There was no one who could give him the grounding that Qui-Gon had provided— not Obi-Wan, not Jeremy, or even Ashlyn. One day, perhaps. One day, each of them would play a part in his life that would change him forever. He could sense that. But for now, when it mattered most, he felt all alone. So he smiled, but he was sick in spirit and lost in his heart...

Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Ashlyn shuffled subtly over to him, and reached over to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's the beginning of a new life for you, Anakin," she ventured.

"Not quite," the boy mumbled, looking up at her through sad eyes. "I'll become a Jedi Knight, but at what cost? My own brother won't be in my life... and you..."

She gave him a small smile as she bent forward till she was at an eye-level with him, forgetting all about being subtle as the parade went on.

"You shouldn't worry about Jeremy, Annie. He's older, and though you've only just met, if there's one thing you should know about us Cordells is that we never forget the people who are dear to us. And Jer is your brother; he will never forget you. As for I? Do not fret, kid, for you will always be my best friend and I will remember you—" She reached over to the locker hanging from his neck, slightly hidden beneath his robes and lifted it slightly to remind him of what she'd told him the night she gave it to him. "—  _Forever and Always_. Alright?"

The boy smiled brightly and gave her a nod before they both turned their attention back to the crowd before them.

Obi-Wan looked off at the people in front of them. "Qui-Gon always disdained celebrations. But he understood the need for them, as well. I wonder what he would have made of this one."

Anakin shrugged.

The Jedi smiled. "He would have been proud to see you a part of it."

The boy looked at him. "Do you think so?"

"I do. Your mother would be proud of you as well."

Anakin's mouth tightened, and he looked away. "I wish she was here. I miss her."

The Jedi's placed a hand on his shoulder. "One day you will see her again. But when you do, you will be a Jedi Knight."

Meanwhile, Ashlyn had once again turned her attention away from the crowds of people, but to her cousin this time. No words were spoken, but they seemed to be having a silent conversation through their eyes. Ashlyn suddenly reached for his hand and slid it through her ivory beaded bracelet.

Jeremy watched her intently as she did so, his body unmoving as she slid the bracelet past his hand till it hung from his wrist. He looked down at it and bit his lip as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes; this was her second favorite bracelet, the first being the one she had thrown into the flaming pyre the previous day after singing the song from their world. It had been a friendship bracelet she'd made when she was younger, twinned to Lena. Now, her second favorite bracelet was this simple yet beautiful piece of art her little brother had made a while before he'd passed away.

And she was giving it to him.

After staring down at it for a long moment, Jeremy let his inner boy free and latched on to the girl, his arms practically clinging onto dear life as his mind ran over the possibility that this might  _really_  be the last time he saw her. He knew the life of a Jedi was, although adventurous, very dangerous, and there was no certainty they would see each other again.

" _Nos veremos de nuevo un día, primó... hermano mío. No te olvides el decír en nuestra familia_ ," ( **We'll see each other again one day, cousin... brother of mine. Don't forget the saying in our family** ) she spoke softly.

He nodded ever so slightly against her shoulder. " _Por siempre y para siempre_." ( **Forever and always.** )

" _Por siempre y para siempre_ ," ( **Forever and always** ) she repeated softly, shutting her eyes as she held him tighter for a moment longer before turning their attention back to the cheering crowds, pushing away all desire to cry.

There was a celebration going on; there was no time for tears.

The parade wound through the central plaza to where the Queen and her guests viewed the procession. She stood with her handmaidens, Governor Sio Bibble, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, Boss Nass of the Gungans, and the twelve members of the Jedi Council. Artoo-Detoo occupied a space just below the handmaidens and next to Anakin and Obi-Wan, domed head swiveling from side to side, lights blinking as his sensors took everything in.

Artoo beeped at the boy, and Anakin touched the littledroid's shell gently.

Boss Nass stepped forward and held the Globe of Peace high over his head.

"Dis grand party!" an exuberant Jar Jar shouted above the noise of cheering and clapping. "Gungans and Naboo, dey be friends forever, hey?"

His enthusiasm made Ashlyn smile in spite of herself. The Gungan was dancing up and down, long ears flapping, gangly limbs twisting this way and that as he mounted the steps.

 _Jar Jar would never let the bad things in life get him down_ , the outlander thought.  _Maybe there is a lesson to be learned in that._

"We bombad heroes, Annie!" Jar Jar laughed, lifting his arms over his head and showing all his teeth.

Anakin and Jeremy laughed. They guessed maybe they were.

On the broad avenue below, in a long, colorful ribbon of life, the parade that had carried them to this place and time continued on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the end of my first Star Wars fabric, following the story of the first movie. I hope you enjoyed it. Just to let you know, before I jump to the second one, I will publish a 1½ book that I'll call Within Two Destinies. It takes place before the Attack of the Clones, before Ashlyn and Anakin reunite.


	14. Sneak Peak - Within Two Destinies (Star Wars fan fiction - Book One½)

"Master..." Seanna managed to whisper, her voice coming out hoarse and desperate. Not fully aware of her actions, she blindly groped the air for her hand.  
  
"Hey," her warm fingers intertwined around hers. "Everything's going to be okay. You're going to be fine Seanna, I-I promise." The young woman's voice cracked as her grip on her padawan's hand tightened.  
  
A fearful lump forming in her chest, Seanna forced her eyes open. Ashlyn's burning hazel nut irises watched her with such concern that she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. She was hurting her mentor, wasn't she? Why did she always end up hurting the ones that meant everything to her?  
  
"Did I do good?" she chocked out.  
  
The Jedi Master released a strained chuckle that rang with sadness. "Yeah.... yeah, you did."  
  
Seanna attempted to smile although she was sure it came out as a grimace. She didn't want to leave her master. She couldn't. Not now, at least. But, she felt herself slowly slipping away, drifting deeper and deeper into a slumber she had no control over. A slumber she knew would, no doubt, be eternal.  
  
"Master..." she murmured. "Will you promise me something?"  
  
Ashlyn looked at her and blinked, a traitorous tear sliding down her cheek. "Anything," she whispered.  
  
Seanna closed her eyes and focused her mind solely on Ashlyn. The warmth her hand was passing onto hers. The way she was letting her lean against her chest. The softness of her loose shirt. The scent of fabric softener that filled her nose. Her heartbeat. The way her chest rose and fell with each breath. Just... her. The essence of the mother Seanna had never gotten to have.  
  
"Don't let go... okay?"  
  
More tears slid down the Jedi Master's cheek as she shook her head. "Never."


End file.
